


clean slate

by armethaumaturgy



Category: Elsword (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety Attacks, Domestic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, M/M, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Running Away, Slow Burn, Violence, bad knowledge of medical procedures, child!Arc, doctor!Arme, havent even held hands or thought about love at all, ill add tags if i see fit, im trying okay leave me alone, nurse!Knight, runaway!Esper, single parent!Lusa, slow burn so slow they sleep in one bed after 11 chapters, uh what else
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2018-09-29 20:40:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 35,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10143554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/armethaumaturgy/pseuds/armethaumaturgy
Summary: Esper is on his way. Where?Anywhere.But there's a kid out in the freezing night, and he can't just leave him there. Too bad for him, that kid's father isn't very happy. The only good thing is that he's actually kinda nice. Definitely much nicer than his father had been. Maybe he doesn't even mind missing his bus that much.





	1. Chapter 1

It is with a pained groan that Esper stirs again, roused by his head hitting the window. Again.

The road seems to be absolutely littered with bumps and hole, and the driver seems absolutely uncaring towards them. Esper rubs at his eyes, shadowed by dark circles, and looks around the bus. Almost everyone is fast asleep, unheeding of the soft jumps of the vehicle. Even the mother and kid in the seat before him are curled around each other, and though the mother seems visibly less comfortable than her kid, they’re both deep in the land of dreams, and Esper envies them.

Why can’t he curl up and sleep the journey away as well?

He knows the answer, but he feels like blaming it on the bumpy road might help him a little. It doesn’t. The reason swims behind his eyelids each time he blinks, aches around his throat and wrists.

It’s the road’s fault.

Definitely.

It’s not the fact that he feels phantom hands squeezing his throat, or harsh yanks on his hair, even when there’s nothing, head covered safely with a beanie. It’s the road’s fault. Not the way each passing car makes his head swivel to look and make sure it’s not familiar. It’s the road. Not the way most of his upper body aches with bruises, hidden underneath baggy hoodie and yet still so, so tender.

Yeah, definitely the road.

He curls up into a ball on his seat, knees tucked up to his chest and head resting against the window again. The next bump doesn’t jolt him, but it does still startle him, making him frown at himself and his apparent sensitivity to something so miniscule.

A car passes by them, Esper’s eyes flicking to it automatically. His breath gets stuck in his throat as the lines of light move past them, but then they pass and the car is gone and he breathe out, slumping from where he’d rigidly sat up.

The road is bathed in darkness, the sun long gone, and it turns the window into more of a mirror than anything. Esper gazes at himself, impulsively pulling his hood over his face a little more when he catches sight of the large, blooming purple bruise on the side of his cheek, stark against his pale skin. He hides it even though no one else in the buss is awake.

The rest of the bruises are hidden; beneath his turtleneck, long sleeves or pants. Defiantly frowning at the window and at his own reflection, Esper pulls out the spare jacket from his backpack, carefully folding it into a pillow shape and then wedging it to the space where the seat met the window. He lays on it and it makes the vibrations and jolts a little better.

He’s finally _kinda_ dozing off when the bus comes to a slow halt. The flickering lights of a gas stop shine out the window and people slowly awaken, stretching their sore limbs and then clambering out of the vehicle.

The driver is putting up a sign at the front window, to let the passengers know when they’re leaving again. Looking at the faded sign and then at his beaten up watch, Esper concludes he has about an hour.

His legs cry in happiness as he stands on them, and he can even ignore the pulsing pain in his left ankle. The crisp night air is chilly, biting at his hands even after he shoves them into the pockets of his jacket. His backpack is haphazardly thrown over his shoulder as he wanders away from the gas station.

They seem to have stopped in a small town. It’s quiet, not a single soul in sight. It’s only ten PM, according to Esper’s watch, but that is pretty late for a town like this. People are probably at homes, getting ready for bed. All the hops are closed, no lights to light the way except the street ones.

Esper’s feet drag over the stone-paved sidewalk, the seaside to his left and the row of darkened shops to his left. He stops to ogle at some, spying a clothes store with a mannequin dressed in a warm looking knitted sweater.

Esper hugs his faux leather jacket around himself tighter, mentally scolding himself for leaving his favorite sweater behind, but it’s been buried somewhere in the mess of his room and he didn’t have the time to grab much more than what he could stuff into his backpack right away.

The price tag says thirty $ when he squints through the glass, and he recoils, sighing. That’s way more than he has, or could even think of spending on a sweater, of all things.

He wanders down the street, watching the calm seashore as the tiny waves lap at the sand, the moon shining down on it all, unobstructed thanks to the lack of clouds.

It’s quiet and almost serene; for a moment, he can forget he’s running away and pause to enjoy the view for a few minutes. He glances at his watch when he snaps back to himself, trying to burn the rare, nice moment into his memory.

Esper starts making his way back to the gas station, but halfway down the street, he notices someone down by the shore. He frowns, looking at the person.

Upon closer inspection, it appears to be a kid, wandering around, seemingly aimlessly.

A frown still in place, body shivering, Esper carefully slides down the side of the street upon a higher ground, making his way towards the kid. It’s _freezing_ , no kid should be running around alone in this weather. Esper notices that the small boy is barefoot as well when he gets closer, much to his horror.

“Hey,” he calls out, but the kid doesn’t seem to hear him. Running up, Esper crouches in front of the boy, repeating his ‘hey’ once more. The boy’s eyes are closed, and they only flutter open wearily when Esper places a hand onto his shoulder.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” Esper asks softly as the boy blinks and looks around.

“I… sleep walked again,” the boy mumbles, finally looking at Esper with his big magenta eyes.

“What’s your name?” Esper asks, keeping his voice soft, “We need to get you home.”

“I’m Arc. Dad is gonna be worried…”

“Okay, Arc. I’m Esper. Don’t worry, I’ll help you get home. Do you remember the way?”

Arc looks around, fingers fidgeting with the sleeves of his kitty-themed pajamas. Then he slowly shakes his head. Esper can see tears welling up in his eyes. “I’ve never walked back from the beach on my own…”

“Hey, hey, no need to cry,” Esper coos, patting his shoulder and standing up, trying his best to smile. “Let’s go to the police station, I’m sure they can call your dad.”

Arc sniffles, but he nods. Though when Esper turns to leave, he hesitates, tiny toes digging into the wet, cold sand.

“I’m cold…” he mumbles.

Esper is taking off his jacket before he can even really think about it, wrapping the too big article around Arc. The boy practically swims in it.

“You don’t have your shoes,” Esper points out, “Your feet must be freezing. Want me to carry you?”

Eagerly, Arc nods, and wraps his arms around Esper’s neck when the lanky man leans down and picks him up, placing him at his hip, supporting him with one arm.

The boy isn’t necessarily heavy - he’s very tiny, after all - but Esper lacks much upper body strength, so it’s a feat. He doesn’t complain, though, doesn’t even peep at the added weight.

“How old are you, Arc?” he asks, setting down the street. He’d noticed the police station when they’d stopped; it was the only place with lights still on, save for the gas station itself.

Arc curls himself against Esper’s chest, warm like a water bottle, and hums into the crook of Esper’s neck. “Five!” he says, almost proudly.

“Oh? You’re going to school next year, huh? You’re already such a big boy. Are you excited?”

“Mmhm! Dad promised to buy me a kitty backpack! I can’t wait!”

Esper laughs, breath hitching as he steps more weight onto his bad foot, but it doesn’t deter his enthusiasm. He can remember when he’d been small, and his mother had fretted over all his school supplies. “You really like kitties, don’t you? You have them on your pajamas as well.”

Arc hums again, voice bright. “They’re the best! I want to have a pet kitty, but dad doesn’t want to let me.” There’s an almost audible pout in the boy’s voice.

“I think your dad wants you to be bigger so you can take care of the kitty all by yourself,” Esper supplies, the words brightening Arc’s eyes until they almost seem to shine on their own, without the moon’s help.

“I wanna grow up faster!” Arc says, squeezing his arms around Esper’s neck.

“You will, don’t worry,” Esper says, adjusting his hold on the boy lest he slips down. A voice from behind them catches his attention.

“You fucker!”

Esper doesn’t even get to fully turn towards the angry voice before there’s stinging pain in his jaw, forcing him to squeeze his eyes closed and cry out in pain. His hold on Arc slips and the boy drops to the ground, although safely.

“The fuck d'you think you’re doing with my son, you pedophile?!”

Esper turns, cradling the side of his face as he feels blood bubble up in his mouth. He sees a tall, imposing figure before he’s hit again, a steel-like fist driving into his stomach and knocking the wind out of him.

“Get away from Arc!” the man bellows.

Esper crumples to his knees, hugging his midriff in pain only to be kicked, falling to the ground and driving sand into the wound on his face.

“I’m sorry!” he cries, curling up on himself in hopes of appearing smaller. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

“Dad!” Arc cries in panic as the man kicks Esper again, driving the heel of his sneaker into his stomach.

Bile threatens to surge up Esper’s throat as it constricts painfully. He keeps whimpering apologies, unsure of exactly what he’s apologizing for, but it’s not like that had ever stopped him before.

Arc throws himself at his dad, wrapping himself around his muscled arm and tugging. The man looks down at his son in confusion, and Esper takes the momentary reprieve to pick himself off the ground, tears painting his swollen cheeks and sobs wracking his body.

With another loud 'sorry!’ he runs off, backpack forgotten on the ground as he runs away - anywhere far, where the man can’t get him, where there’s no more pain. The adrenaline pumping through his blood dims the pain in his ankle, but his stomach is making him double over and gasp for breath at the lip of every alley he ducks into.

Finally unable to take it, he crumbles down against a wall, head pounding and fighting back the urge to puke. Everything hurts, and he can’t run anymore.

Huddling into himself, he tries to hide behind a dumpster, hoping to god that the man doesn’t follow him.

* * *

When the lanky man disappears into an alleyway, Lusa kneels down next to Arc, pushing his hair to the side to look and make sure there are no bruises on him.

“Are you okay, Arc?” he asks, cupping the boy’s cheek gently.

Arc smacks his hand away, much to his great confusion and, admittedly, hurt.

“How _could_ you, dad?!” the boy cries, tears streaking down his cheeks and an angry sneer on his lips.

Lusa blinks, trying to pull the boy into a hug, but Arc pulls away like he’s made of fire.

“It’s okay, Arc, the bad man is gone now,” Lusa mutters.

“You big meanie, dad! Esper wasn’t bad! He was taking me back because I sleep walked again!” the boy cries. “How could you hurt him?! He even gave me his jacket!”

Lusa finally takes notice of the black jacket that almost hides Arc fully, so big that the boy has wrapped it around himself twice. “I- He was going the wrong way to home, I thought he was taking you away,” he explains.

“We were going to the police. I don’t remember the way home from here…” Arc says, but he still pushes Lusa’s hand away when it reaches out to him.

The thought that he fucked up hits Lusa. He’d assumed, and he’d beaten up a kid that was just trying to help out of nowhere.

He pulls out his phone and dials the taxi service, telling them to come asap to the pier.

“Arc, I want you to go home, okay?” he tells his boy when the taxi shows up, a familiar driver waving at him. Though almost everyone is familiar in such a small town. “Don’t go to sleep yet, wait for me. I will go find the man, okay?”

Arc looks at him dubiously but follows into the car with Ariel. “Don’t hurt Esper anymore, dad!”

“You can pay me next time,” Ariel says with a smile unfit for someone on a night shift, but that’s just how she is. Lusa thanks her, and then goes to pick up the dirty backpack.

Lusa knows the town like the back of his hand, and systematically looks through the alleys the boy could’ve gone to. It takes him a long while, but finally, finally he finds him crumpled to the ground next to a dumpster, shivering like a leaf and passed out.

He panics, dropping to his knees and searching for a pulse on the boy’s thin neck, even though he’s obviously still alive, if the shivering is anything to go by.

He’s scared - he’d beaten a kid to the point _passing out_ , for fuck’s sake! With shaky hands, he pulls out his phone and dials the only person who he knows can help.

Arme’s voice is soft on the other side of the line, slurred a little too, indicating the man had been napping, if not sleeping already. “What is it, Lusa?”

“I- Okay, I- There’s-” Lusa stammers, growling at himself for being so distraught. “An emergency, there’s a, a boy. Near the pier, I don’t know what to do.”

Arme seems alert by the word 'emergency’. “Okay, calm down, Lusa. The boy is alive, I take it?” Lusa nods, and then chastises himself because Arme can’t see him, _idiot_!

At his affirmative hum, Arme asks, “Is he responsive?”

“He’s- He’s passed out.”

“Do you know what happened to him?” Arme asks, so used to this that he keeps his cool where Lusa is panicking his head off.

“I- I beat him up,” Lusa admits quietly, biting at his bottom lip.

“You _what_?!” is Arme’s immediate exclamation. Then he composes himself and says, “Okay, your house isn’t far from there. Take him to your place and I’ll come over to check him out.”

From the rustling and Knight’s voice in the background, Arme is already getting ready when he hangs up.

Lusa doesn’t even put the phone away and instead dials the taxi again. Ariel comes within a few minutes, jesting that he should’ve just gone with Arc in the first place.

Her smile freezes on her face when she notices the limp, bloodied boy in Lusa’s hold, but she’s smart enough not to ask. She takes them home and Lusa leaves her a big tip, thanking her yet again as he pulls the unconscious boy out of the car and inside.

Arc is standing by the door, opening it for him when he hears him and Ariel talking. His worried gaze keeps falling on Esper.

“Dad! What did you do, dad?!” he cries, tears welling in his eyes anew.

“Shh, love, he’s okay. Uncle Arme is coming over to look at him,” Lusa promises, moving to the couch. “Could you fetch me one of the towels in the bathroom cabinet, please?”

Arc quite literally sprints to get it, returning with a large black towel that he spreads on the couch as per Lusa’s instructions.

Esper is lowered onto it, his lax head falling backwards on the couch arm.

“Uncle Arme will fix him, right?” Arc asks, standing by the couch and draping Esper’s jacket over him like a blanket. “He’ll make him wake up? Why is he asleep?”

“He’ll be fine, Arc, promise,” Lusa says, crouching to kiss his son’s forehead. Arc lets him, this time.


	2. Chapter 2

“Where the hell did you pick up this guy?” Arme asks, brows set so deep into a scowl Lusa thinks they will merge together to create the super scowl eyebrow.

Then again, Arme only ever looks like this when something is wrong. Very, very wrong.

“On the beach- I mean, in an alley- ugh!” Lusa growls, still strung high on adrenaline, his heart hammering. “He was on the beach wit Arc. I- I only punched and kicked him, and fuck, it wasn’t much!”

Arme raises an eyebrow, standing up from where he’s been kneeling by the couch, examining the bruises on the unconscious boy. Thankfully, nothing had looked broken.

The blow to the jaw would absolutely bruise, though, as would the blows to his chest.  
The worst thing Arme had found - and the thing that made his expression be what it is - were all the _other_ bruises. They ranged in age, some as fresh as yesterday or the day before, purple and red blotches on his face, chest, arms. And then some old ones, pale green and yellow littering the skin in random places, looking like they must’ve been much, much bigger to begin with, to stay like that even after so long.

And then the ones around the boy’s throat - a set of too-clear hand imprints, already faded into a purple, peeking out from the top of the black turtleneck. Arme had been scared to peel the cotton away, and for good reason.

“Disregarding the fact that you punch like a pro boxer,” Arme mumbles, “This guy had been hurt before, so most of this isn’t your fault. The bruises, I mean. He looks pretty malnourished, so that coupled with the way he ran away, I assume, injured, caused his system to shut down. He should wake up soon, it’s not much different than passing out from being awake too long. He _can_ , however, press charges against you. You did assault him out of nowhere,” Arme concludes.

“He had Arc, I thought he was kidnapping him! I didn’t think!” Lusa defends himself, biting down on his bottom lip, worrying it between his pristine teeth.

“That’s not the point. You still assaulted him.” Arme sighs, places a hand on Lusa’s shoulder. “The best thing would be wait until he wakes up, and then try to explain it to him. Maybe he will understand. Oh!” Arme jolts as if he’d remembered something, “And I will need him to come to the clinic when he wakes up, as soon as possible, at best. There’s something with his ankle, but without an x-ray I won’t know if it’s just sprained or if it’s broken and needs an actual cast.”

Lusa nods numbly, the two of them moving to the kitchen where Lusa had prepared coffee before. Arc pops up at the staircase, slinking his way downstairs, quiet as a mouse. Lusa had told him to go to his room, but when had Arc ever listened?

“Will Es be okay?” the boy asks, huddling to the kitchen doorframe, tiny and worried.  
Arme smiles down and opens his arms in an invitation for a hug that Arc eagerly takes, settling down in the doctor’s lap. “Don’t worry Arc, he will be okay.”

He turns to Lusa, bright hair jumping at the motion. “The guy’s name is Esper?”

Lusa fiddles with his mug, the grinning cat face on the porcelain doing nothing to help his nerves. “Well, Arc says so, so I guess. He didn’t have an ID or even a wallet or anything.”

“I suppose he’s running away, from somewhere,” the doctor mutters. He’d seen bruises like that a few too many times times than he’d like. “Anyway, can’t do much more until he wakes up…”

* * *

The first thing Esper notices when his consciousness returns to him is the pain throbbing in his cheek. He feels hi brows draw together, more on their own than a cohesive action, and he tries to remember what had happened before he’d passed out.

Did he mess up again? He must’ve, there’s no other explanation for the pain. He must’ve missed a spot when dusting the furniture, maybe undercooked the pasta a little? He can’t remember. The heavy haze is too much for his muddled brain.

His eyes flutter open, despite the pounding in his head. He moves his body a little, testing which movements hurt. Too bad for him, almost all of them do.

When he finally looks around, eyes falling from the ceiling down to the room itself, his heart speeds up, breath catching in his throat. This isn’t his living room… The walls are painted a pale purple, though the ceiling is white. Dark furniture lines the opposite wall, and Esper catches a glimpse of himself in the surface of the TV.

He looks like shit.

But when was the last time he did _not_ look like shit?

He doesn’t dwell on it past noting that his whole cheek is swollen and there’s a pang of irony taste on his tongue. Esper sits up, the small dark blanket that had been thrown over him sliding off to the floor, eyes following it before he looks around.

There’s an open door to his left, and carefully peeking through it, Esper can see a pair of men sitting at a dinner table, talking. They’re quiet enough that he can’t understand their words. Or his ears decided to switch off again.

One of them has bright hair, blue and short, and looking at it for too long makes Esper’s eyes hurt. The other, though…

It doesn’t physically hurt to look at him, but Esper’s whole body starts shaking, hands tightening into fists and nails biting into the skin, barely not breaking the frail skin. He tries swallowing around the lump in his throat, backing up. They didn’t seem to notice him, and he didn’t want to take any chances.  
His backpack sits by the couch, stuff inside in disarray - even more than they had been before. He grabs it, slinging it over his shoulder as sneakily as he can.

He doesn’t notice he’s lacking his shoes until he steps off the carpet into the wooden floor leading up to the front door. He bites at his lip; it’s fine, he doesn’t need them, he just needs to get _out_.

The door knob is grasped in his shaking hand, twisting fruitlessly when Arc’s soft voice pipes up from behind him, “Where are you going, Esper?”

Esper almost jumps out of his skin, twisting around so fast his sight blacks out for a moment, backing up into the heavy door until his back presses into it. Arc voice doesn’t only startle him, but also lets the men in the kitchen know he’s up. They pop up, cornering him.

Esper’s breathing comes in short, shallow bursts, chest heavily painfully as he shies away as much as he can, which isn’t much, honestly.

“I’m so sorry, pl-please let me go,” he whimpers, trying his hardest to keep the tears in check. “I didn’t do anything, I promise, please let me leave, I promise you will never see me again… Please…”

Lusa and Arme exchange a concerned look. The guy looks scared out of his mind, and it doesn’t help when he crumbles to the floor, probably due to his ankle giving up on him.

He curls up into a tiny ball by the door, shivering madly. Lusa’s insides twist, and then even more when he looks down at Arc, who’s just about ready to cry again.

Lusa kneels down and ushers Arc into the kitchen softly, patting his hair before the boy runs off. Arme follows after him without a word, knowing better than anything to give the man some much needed breathing space.

“Hey, hey, calm down,” Lusa says, wincing inwardly. Is he an _idiot_? It doesn’t help the man, only makes him turn his wide eyes towards him.

Those eyes look wild, looking around for an escape route. Lusa raises his hands up, showing his palms to appear less threatening.

“I’m sorry, I won’t hurt you,” he says, lowering his voice. “I didn’t mean to scare you, but you’re hurt, you should be laying down. Arme is- he is a doctor, he says you will be fine, but you might have something with your ankle. Please, I won’t hurt you, I sorry I jumped you, I- I saw you with Arc and I thought- I thought you were taking him. I’m sorry.”

Esper sniffles, so Lusa shuffles back a bit on his heels. The lankier man keeps avoiding his eyes like the plague, instead staring a hole through the floorboards or the wall.

“I didn’t do anything,” Esper whimpers, “I swear, I swear I didn’t do anything…”

“I know, Arc told me. I’m so sorry, I was scared about him,” Lusa says, biting on his lip. “I should’ve talked to you, not- I’m so sorry.”

Esper’s still wide eyes run over the room, knees tucked up to his chest, toes curling together through his thin socks. “Wh-Where are we…?” he asks, finally daring to look at Lusa, though only for a split second before his eyes dart away again.

“Ah- This is my house. I found you in the alley, and Arme- the uh… the doctor said to bring you in since the clinic was already closed.”

Esper doesn’t offer a verbal answer, instead tucking his face into his knees, arms wrapped around them. Lusa stands up, making the man curl up tighter, jolting and looking up in distress.

“I can- I can make you tea?” Lusa offers awkwardly. “Arme says you shouldn’t move, should rest and- and go see him in the clinic later. I-I can’t keep you here if you don’t want to stay, but uh- and I will totally understand if you don’t wanna, but uh- uhh… You can totally stay here until you feel better, if you want. It’s- It’s the least I can do for you…”

Esper looks up at the man, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. He wants out, he doesn’t care that he’s covered in bruises, doesn’t care his ankle is most probably sprained or twisted or whatever. He wants to feel the serenity he’d felt alone on the pier, walking around alone and enjoying the view without any repercussions.

But the man would be angry if he said that, he’s sure. His gut still hurts, he can feel the bruise from his fist forming already, and he absolutely doesn’t want another like it if he can avoid it.

“I’ll… stay, if you want me to,” he mumbles finally, making sure not to stay quiet for too long.

Lusa moves back to the kitchen, telling Arme that Esper had agreed to stay at his place. It makes Arc positively ecstatic, the boy running out to the man.

The boy tugs Esper up, almost bouncing up and down. “You’ll stay in my room, right, right? I have the coolest plushies!”

Arme tells Lusa to bring Esper over if his ankle doesn’t get better, and then does a double take and says they should come over anyhow. Then he leaves, saying he’ll leave his phone on, just in case.

That just leaves Lusa alone in the kitchen with the kettle boiling the water. He doesn’t know how the man likes his tea, didn’t even think to ask, so he just makes the fruit one, putting a spoonful of sugar into it before bringing the steaming mug upstairs.

Arc had practically pulled the man up the stairs and into his room, and Lusa finds them sitting on the boy’s bed. Arc is excitedly showing Esper all his plushies - Esper’s hands are already full, yet Arc doesn’t stop handing him more plushies, telling their life stories to him in intricate detail.

Esper looks tired - though it might just be the lighting and the bloom of colorful marks on his face - but he still smiles at the boy, obviously listening intently. He even asks questions about certain stuffed animals, making Arc’s eyes light up. The boy doesn’t disappoint with his answers, giving a full five minute lecture on how Mr. Mittens lost his eye in a pirate fight with Captain Whiskers.

“I brought the tea,” Lusa pipes up when Arc is done, pulling both their eyes to himself. He stands unsurely in the doorway while Esper visibly shifts backwards at the edge of the bed, eyes cast downwards. “It’s way past your bedtime, Arc.”

“I’ll sleep with you, dad!” Arc says, bounding up, plushies forgotten already. “Arme says Esper needs lots of rest, right? So I’ll take my nightlight with me too!”

The boy pulls the tiny plastic cat off the table, fiddling with the switch on its bottom for a moment before he holds the now glowing blue lamp against his chest triumphantly. He pads his way back to the bed and holds the lamp up, pressing its face against Esper’s less injured cheek softly.

“Good night, Esper!” he says, disappearing out of the room with a smile splitting his face from ear to ear.

“You forgot to brush your teeth,” Lusa reminds him as he passes. Esper can hear Arc’s upset grumble all the way from down the hallway.

When the sound of the tap running reaches Lusa’s ears, he steps into the room, slowly. Esper takes to placing the plushies Arc had left in his embrace along the shelf sitting right above the bed.

Lusa hands him the mug when he’s finished, Esper’s dainty fingers curling around the pleasantly warm ceramic. “I’m truly sorry for before,” he says.

Esper looks up briefly, the bags beneath his eyes even more prominent now. “It’s not your fault.”

“I will be gone for work by the time you wake up, probably. Arc will be in school, too,” Lusa rubs the back of his neck, “so you don’t have to worry about us in your hair. I get that you have places to be, and stuff, and you probably don’t want to be anywhere near me… just stay until you get better?”

Esper takes a slow sip of the tea; strong and sweet, he licks his lips at the taste. He’s gazing into the moving liquid as he twines his toes together again, a jolt of pain running up his entire leg and spine. He nods.

“Should I, uh… fetch you some clothes to sleep in?” Lusa asks, stepping from foot to foot. He takes Esper’s confused silence as a yes, and disappears into his room to grab a shirt and pair of sweats. When he returns, Esper gladly accepts the clothes. “They’ll probably be too big you, but I don’t have any other, sorry.”

Esper shakes his head, gripping the mug a little tighter to hide the fact that his hands are still shaking. “They’re perfect, thank you,” he says, and Lusa takes it as his cue to exit. He does so with a soft, hesitant ‘good night’.

After the door clicks closed and there’s silence for more than a few long minutes, Esper’s breath leaves him in a soft exhale. His shoulders slump and he sets the tea down after another sip. He stares at the clothes for a long while before he kicks himself to change into them.

True to Lusa’s words, they’re big - way too big - on him. The shirt hangs halfway off his shoulder and reaches to his mid-thighs. He doesn’t even try the sweatpants. He leaves them folded into a neat pile on the desk top, taking the tea to sip a little again.

He doesn’t like the way the shirt feels on him; it’s so big, it’s almost like father’s. Granted, it smells absolutely different (like flowery detergent) and it’s much less itchy, but still. Esper shuffles over to turn the light off, feet dragging over the carpet as he forces down hisses of pain from putting weight onto the injured ankle.

Bathed in darkness, he curls up into the bed, pulling the blanket up over his head and leaving only a small hole at his face to breathe. He doesn’t sleep until the early morning hours.


	3. Chapter 3

It’s quiet. Peaceful, quiet, no shouting for him to get up. And judging by the warm rays of sunshine peering inside through the window, it’s already much, much later than his usual waking up time.

Esper almost gets a heart attack when he opens his eyes and is met with a red face staring at him. It takes an embarrassing amount of minutes for him to realize it’s just a plush dragon that must’ve fallen off the overflowing shelf.

He waits for his heartbeat to calm down again before he pulls the covers off of himself, folding them as he gets up from the bed. He hadn’t noticed last night, but both the comforter and pillow are covered in purple linen with kitties.

He can’t help but smile at that; Arc _really_ likes cats, it seems. There’s a lot more things with the motif in the room as well, when he takes the time to look. The most prominent is the giant cat sticker on the wall right next to the door, with a growth chart. Tiny marker lines litter the wall at it, stopping short of meter ten. Must be Arc’s current height.

Esper takes the mug he’d left sitting on the table last night, with half of the dark pink tea still in it. He gulps it down, no matter its coldness and the undissolved sugar sticking to the bottom. The feeling of it passing down his esophagus makes him shiver.

There’s no one in the house, he discovers when he tiptoes his way through it, mug in hand. He does discover that the house is in disarray, however.

There’s no real mess, but things are still strewn about here and there, a bit of dust settling over the living room wall, there’s dishes sitting in the sink, the carpets need vacuuming. Esper’s eyes slide to the front door, sitting right there, within reach, and then he sighs, pulling off the shirt Lusa had given him last night so he doesn’t get it dirty by accident. He pulls on his own clothes, frowning at the bloodstain on the sleeve of his shirt, but doing nothing about it.

He starts with the toys, collecting them and bringing them up to Arc’s room. There’s a big chest for them, and Esper carefully sets them all in. When they’re all put away, he moves to the dusting, rummaging through the bathroom cupboards until he finds a duster (and the vacuum as well, by chance).

It doesn’t take too long to dust everything and wipe the tables and electronics. When he glances at the clock mounted on the kitchen wall, it only says 14:27.

The vacuuming takes even less time, as there are only carpets in the living room and the bedrooms, and Esper grows restless after putting everything away to its designated spot.

His stomach growls at him dangerously, and it’s like a reminder. Right, he needs to cook something.

The fridge is full of tiny packs of flavored milk and snacks for Arc to take to school, but otherwise it’s pretty barren. The pantry looks about the same, only the staples sitting on the shelves, amongst the many, many opened packs of cereal.

He’s had worse to work with.

By the time the rice is sitting in the cooker, he’s elbow-deep in the sink, washing all the dishes until they’re shining and setting them onto the drier to put away later.

He puts together something that resembles a sauce (yet would absolutely not pass for one in _his_ standards) and pulls chicken breasts out of the freezer. He’s lucky they defrost quickly so he can chuck them into the saucepan, letting it simmer.

The clock announces 15:47.

The front door opens with a soft noise, Esper’s head snapping up and back. He freezes with a spoon of the sauce in midair.

“Arc,” he breathes out when he notices the small boy toeing off his shoes by the door. “Welcome home.”

“Hey, Es!” the boy exclaims, bounding to the kitchen and shucking his backpack onto one chair before taking a seat at another. “What are you making?” he questions, craning his neck to take a peek.

“Dinner,” Esper mutters, turning the stove off. He hands over the spoonful to Arc, careful not to spill.

Arc doesn’t take it, instead just closing his lips around it and leaving Esper stunned with a clean spoon.

“Ah, what do you think?” he asks, rinsing the spoon in a slow stream of cold water.

“Mmm…” Arc appears to be mulling it over. “Is there green peppers?”

“Nope.”

“Delicious!” the boy exclaims right after, causing Esper to break into a wide smile.

Dutifully, Arc pulls out a tiny notebook from his drawstring bag, crayons spilling all over the tabletop. Esper catches  one that would’ve rolled off the edge, reflexes so quick he almost slams his hand against the edge of the table.

“Careful, Arc,” he coos, setting the green crayon amongst all the other ones.

“Help me! I have to do this math for tomorrow!” the boy says, oblivious to Esper’s words. He opens the notebook and pulls out a folded piece of paper. It has simple addition and subtraction exercises on it in big bold font.

“You’re not in school yet, are you? Why are you doing math?” Esper asks, but he does sit next to the boy nevertheless.

Arc pouts, grabbing one of the purple crayons and twiddling it in his hands. “Miss Ara says we have to know this before we go to school. She says this is like the homework all the big kids get! See, I’m already growing up! Soon I’ll get the kitten from dad!”

Esper laughs, patting Arc’s head and ruffling his short hair. “Mhm, you’re a big boy! And big boys can do this all by themselves, can’t they?”

Esper’s words make Arc look to the side, fidgetting in his seat. “Well… um… I can’t really do subtraction… yet! Yet! Soon I will and I will be a big boy!”

“Yeah, you will. And until then, I can help you. Why not wait for your dad, though?”

“Dad isn’t here! You are! And dad isn’t good at drawing, and we have to draw something as well!” is Arc’s simple reasoning while he stars to scribble down the answers to the addition questions.

“How do you know I’m any better at drawing than your dad?” Esper laughs.

“I don’t, that’s why I need to test you!”

Arc seems to get all the addition questions right, and when they move to the subtraction, Esper has to rake his head how to explain it to the boy as simply as possible.

It’s just common sense to him to know that seventeen minus two is fifteen. It’s also common sense to him to know all the formulas for volume of a dodecahedron, but that won’t help the poor boy at all.

“Okay, you have seventeen candies,” Esper tries, “You eat one and you give one to your dad. How many do you have left?”

Arc thinks, and thinks, but even after a few minutes, he doesn’t have an answer.

“Okay, how about we actually get the candies?” Esper stands up and pulls the pack of chewy candies from the top shelf above the stove.

He counts up seventeen of them and then places them onto the table, to the side of the crayons so there’s not as much clutter.

“Okay, these are all your candies-”

“Really? All of them?! Dad never lets me have this many!” Arc exclaims, eyes sparkling.

Esper laughs as he puts the pack away. “Sure, you can have all of them if you get the questions right.”

The challenge seems to give Arc second wind, the boy holding his crayon with determination. “Okay! I’ll get it super right!”

“Okay, how many are there?”

Arc counts them up, using his fingers, and then comes to the conclusion there’s indeed seventeen. “Seventeen!”

“Yeah, and now, if I eat one,” Esper says, taking one and unwrapping the yellow paper to pop it into his mouth, “And you eat one…”

Arc takes the words as permission and eats one, wrapper fluttering back to the table.

“Okay, how many are left?” Esper asks, “You can count them again.”

Arc does so, turning to Esper with a bright smile. “Fifteen! It’s fifteen, right?”

Arc writes a big, jittery fifteen on the paper, looking immensely proud of himself. To be honest, Esper also feels proud of him.

He looks at the next question and pulls aside eight of the candies, pushing the rest back to the far edge of the table. “Okay, now you have eight,” he says, “And you give four to your friends…” Four of the yellow candies are pushed aside, and Esper prompts the boy, “How many will you still have?”

“Four!” Arc exclaims, writing the answer down when Esper gives him a big nod.

“Amazing! Look at you, you’ve got it already!” Esper says, a smile tugging up at his lips. “Try the next one yourself?”

Arc looks at the question - four minus four - and then takes all the four isolated candies and unwraps them, shoving them into his mouth. His cheeks are all puffed up while he chews.

“Zhewo!” he says around them.

“Right, but don’t speak with your mouth full,” Esper scolds, raising his eyebrow at the boy.

Arc chews and stays quiet, having the mind to look a bit ashamed. “Sorry,” he mumbles when he swallows, even opening his mouth wide to show it’s empty.

Arc does the last question by himself, putting the three candies aside instead of shoving them into his mouth. He scribbles down an eight and folds the paper up again.

“Thank you, Esper!” he says, bounding up to wrap his arms around the lanky man.

“Ah-” Esper freezes up, wrapping his own around the boy in turn, hesitantly. He relaxes into the hug and even finds himself smiling when Arc pulls away. “You’re welcome,” he says softly, ruffling the boy’s hair again.

“Now,” Arc almost jumps on the balls of his heels, rushing off and then returning with colorful printer paper, putting it onto the table and grabbing a red crayon. “It’s time to draw!”

Esper grabs a pale green paper while Arc grabs one of the yellow ones. “What are we drawing?”

“Miss Ara said we should draw our family!” Arc says, already doing his best and drawing a stick figure with big arms. Yeah, that’s definitely Lusa.

“I see,” Esper says, staring at the blank sheet of paper.

Arc scribbles enthusiastically, Esper only stares at the paper. This goes on for a while, until there is a bunch of stick figures on Arc’s paper and still none on Esper’s.

“Okay! I’m done!” Arc exclaims, putting his crayon down and holding the paper up.

There’s Lusa and Arc, hand in hand, both smiling. There’s the doctor standing next to Lusa (the cyan crayon doesn’t do his hair justice), hand in hand with a shorter figure that has short red spikes for hair. There’s also two short stick figures next to them, the same size as Arc’s figure. He supposes it’s their… kids? Since one has red hair as well. The one that catches his eye the most, though, is the figure on the right of Arc - a taller one, with purple squiggles for hair and a pan in hand.

“Is that… me?” Esper finds himself asking, brows drawing together in confusion.

Arc nods, “Mmhm! Dad said you’d be staying here, so that means you’re part of the family!”

Esper feels his heart skipping a beat in his ribcage. He can’t find it in himself to tell the boy he’ll be leaving. “It’s very pretty, Arc. I’m sure Miss Ara will praise you too.”

Arc’s smile is wide and toothy, his cheeks stretched with it. He folds this paper as well, but much, much more carefully than the one with the math problems.

The boy is just scooping up the rest of the candies into his shirt, holding it so none would fall, when the front door opens again.

Esper jumps, twisting around to look at Lusa, who comes inside with a pair of grocery bags. Arc runs up to him, clinging to one of his legs while he tries to pull his shoes off.

“Hey dad!” he greets, tugging at the pant leg until Lusa picks him up and kisses his forehead. “Welcome home!”

“Hey Arc,” Lusa says as he sets the boy down and takes the bags again, carrying them to the kitchen.

He stops in the doorway, blinking as he looks around. His eyes fall from Esper to the mess of crayons and papers on the table, to the food sitting on the stove and then all around the kitchen. Esper is shaking, hands gripping the back of the chair.

“Esper? Did you clean up?” he asks, absolutely taken aback.

Esper nods softly, shrugging down so the back of the chair hides him a little more. Lusa is looking around, scrutinizing his work and looking for anywhere he’d messed up or left a mess. He just hopes Lusa wouldn’t count the mess on the table.

“Esper also cooked dinner!” Arc says, going back to get the paper and show his dad. “Look, look, Esper helped me with my homework and watched while I drew!”

Lusa takes the paper, looking over the stick figures with a fond look. His expression scrunches up a little when he looks to the right of the picture, and Esper curls up into himself even more, if that’s even possible at this point.

“It’s very good, Arc, great job,” he tells the boy, “If Miss Ara lets you keep it, it’s going straight to the fridge.”

“I’ll ask her!” Arc says, folding the paper and cradling it close to his chest.

Lusa steps towards to stove, looking over the meat and rice, still warm. “You _cooked_ , too?”

Esper slinks out of the chair, shoulders hunched as he pointedly looks anywhere but at Lusa. “Uh, yeah… There wasn’t much around, but I made chicken with sauce?”

He’s expecting the yelling for half-assing the cooking, steeling himself if Lusa decides to become physical as well. His shoulders quake.

“Holy shit,” Lusa says instead, placing the plastic bags onto the table, pushing the mess of crayons aside. “I brought dinosaur nuggets for dinner, but you actually cooked? Esper, you should’ve been resting!”

Esper flinches, yelping. “I’m sorry!” he squeaks out, quietly.

“Ah-” Lusa freezes up as well, blinking at Esper. “You don’t have to apologize, Esper… You just didn’t have to do any of this, I mean- fuck-” He catches himself, glancing at Arc out of the corner of his eye, but the boy isn’t even phased by the word. “You’re not here to do stuff, Esper, why didn’t you rest?”

Esper doesn’t answer, just standing there and stepping from foot to foot and wincing due to his ankle. It didn’t hurt him much during cleaning and cooking, since he had been focused, but now it does.

“Thanks, Esper,” Lusa says finally, getting a feeling that he won’t answer. It seems to take him aback - wide magenta eyes look at him, blinking rapidly.

“Uh-” Esper shuffles, raising a hand to point at the food, “I’ll uh… I’ll serve it up…”  
Lusa blocks his path to the stove, looking down and making him shrink back. “Nuh-uh, _you_ will sit down. _I_ will serve it up.”

When Esper doesn’t make a move to it down, Lusa frowns, raking his brain for what to do. He had never thought anyone would look at _him_ with this expression, or act like this around _him_.

“You did more than enough, Esper,” he says softly, peering down as Esper does the same, eyes boring into the floor. “Sit down, your ankle must hurt.”

Wordlessly, Esper nods and moves to sit down at the table, next to Arc like before. The boy looks at him, probably wondering what they had been talking about. Esper helps him pack up the crayons and notebook back into his drawstring bag. Lusa serves up the food; it’s still warm enough not to need to be heated up in the microwave. Soon enough, three plates of food sit on the table, one of them plastic and with white bunnies around the edge.

“Bon appetite,” he says, and the first one to dig in is Arc, shoveling a forkful of the rice and meat into his small mouth.

“It’s delicious!” he says, before another forkful. “And Esper said no green peppers!”

“We didn’t even have green peppers,” Lusa points out as he tastes the dish. His eyes go wide. “This is amazing!”

Esper can’t help the slight flinch as Lusa’s voice goes loud, but he offers what he hopes is a small smile. From Lusa’s expression, the meaning gets across, somehow. Finally he dares pick up his fork and put a forkful into his mouth, chewing slowly.

His stomach is already grateful, flipping inside of him. He hadn’t eaten all day, too absorbed in his work, and all day yesterday. It’s so nice to get something into his belly.

They’re eating in silence, but it doesn’t seem all that tense. Esper retreats to his mind, thinking of how different it would’ve been back home. Hell, he wouldn’t even have been sitting at the table back home.

He gets so deep in his thoughts that he doesn’t even notice the fork slipping from his fingers. It hits the table with a loud clink and bounces off the table, making Esper sit up straight, looking forward like a deer in headlights.

Lusa gets up and Esper’s breath gets stuck in his throat.

He reaches down to the floor, picking up the fork from where it had fallen. It gets tossed into the sink and Lusa pulls out another one from the cupboard. Esper stares at it as it’s handed to him, brain not catching up yet.

“Gotta be more careful,” Lusa says, and it draws his sight up to his face. There’s a soft smile. “You could’ve stabbed yourself on accident.”

Esper takes the fork, opening his mouth to say ‘thank you’, but nothing comes out. Even Arc peeks at him when he stays like that for a full minute. He turns to the boy and smiles as if to reassure him.

In reality, he has no idea what’s going on.

All the rules he has lived by had been thrown out of the window in mere days.


	4. Chapter 4

“Alright, no working today. No doing _anything_ ,” Lusa says. Esper has to fight himself not to lower his head and start nodding.

It’s early, so early the sun hasn’t even risen onto the horizon. The small light above the faucet is on, illuminating the counter and almost half the kitchen, the there’s Arc’s kitty light sitting on the dining table, this time a bright yellow shade, casting shades on the boy’s face while he stuffs his face with cereal.

The Cheerios sit to the side, Esper’s bowl full and untouched. Lusa is almost done with his own bowl of Chocapic. The morning is quiet, and despite being up so early, Esper hadn’t been forced awake. He just… woke up on his own, to find Arc rummaging through his closet for clothes to wear to the kindergarten today.

The boy apologized for waking him out, slinking out with green pants and a pink shirt, a combination that hurt Esper’s barely open eyes like no other.

It left Esper stunned, sitting up on the bed as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. When he’d slinked downstairs, Lusa had been pouring milk into the boy’s cereal.

Esper didn’t even get to open his mouth to offer making breakfast before he’d been ushered to sit down, Lusa asking whether he preferred chocolate or honey cereal.

Esper couldn’t remember the last time he’d _had_ cereal, so when Arc told him that Cheerios are _definitely_ better than Chocapic, he’d just nodded and trusted the boy.

Now, forcing himself to shove a spoonful of it into his mouth instead of falling into the usual morning routine of preparing breakfast and moving to his room to not be in the way, he feels so out of place.

“What am I supposed to do all day, then…?” Esper asks while he’s chewing around the honey rings. Arc had been right, they are really, really good.

“Rest! Rest up!” Lusa huffs. Esper flinches on instinct, but Lusa doesn’t sound _angry_ , so his shoulders droop back soon enough. “I’ll close the shop earlier today and take you to Arme. Make sure not to hurt your ankle till then or he’ll kill me.”

Esper is still confused. How can an order sound so… casual? He nods anyway.

Arc finishes his cereal and Lusa puts his and Arc’s bowls into the sink. The boy slinks his drawstring bag over his tiny shoulders. Even adjusted, it still reaches down to his butt, jumping up and down with each of the boy’s movements.

“See ya!” Arc says, running off towards the front door to put on his shoes. Lusa follows, but much slower, though.

“I should be back around three, okay? Please don’t exert yourself again, seriously,” the bigger man says from the doorway, “See ya.”

Like father, like son, huh.

Esper wonders how much of his father’s quirks he picked up, like Arc with Lusa’s speech.

The front door shuts with a squeak, leaving him alone in the dim kitchen. The sun peeks over the horizon, its orange rays strangely warm through the glass for the middle of January.

He slowly chews through the bowl of cereal, not even sure himself how long he sits there in silence. By the time he’s done, though, his cereal is a mush and the sun is fully out, shining over him brightly enough that he turns the lights off.

He doesn’t know what to do with himself; the house is still clean from yesterday, yet he can still find a number of things to fix and clean properly. He’d never just been left alone without orders of what to do, or supervision so he wouldn’t mess up. He’s at a loss.

He ends up in the kitchen, on the big black sofa, tentatively switching through the channels on TV.

There’s news on, something about a drive by shooting at the Arizona university. Esper doesn’t much care for news.

Click.

There’s a cooking show, with a man yelling bleeped out profanities that Esper recognizes immediately.  
Click.

He doesn’t even realize his shaky hand had switched the channel until there’s a colorful character dancing to a catchy beat taking up the screen. A kids’ show.

He leaves it on, curling up on the couch with his head resting on the arm rest.

When he was little, he used to watch these with his mom, but that had been so, so long ago. The characters talking about friendship and helping each other is strangely nostalgic.

Time flies, so quickly he doesn’t even notice. He’s sure he dozes off here and there, but the shows keep going and he loses track of how many different ones he’d seen.

He’s awoken from another nap by a hand on his shoulder, shaking him softly. He’s so stunned and bleary from waking up that he doesn’t even jump, just blinking up at Lusa’s grinning face.

“Wake up, Esper, we need to go to the doc,” Lusa says, letting go of Esper’s shoulder before his touch becomes too much.

Esper sits up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. There’ still the colorful show running on the TV. Lusa doesn’t comment on his watching decisions, though, thankfully.

Lusa waits for him by the door while he struggles to put his shoes on. He’s still a little doozy, even as they leave the house, Lusa locking it behind them and leading him to his black car.

“Have you been watching TV all day?” Lusa asks after starting the car, peeking sideways as Esper fiddles with his seatbelt.

“Ah- yeah…” Esper mumbles, lowering his gaze when he finally clicks the seat belt.

Lusa doesn’t yell at him for wasting the day away, instead he looks positively happy. “Good! Thank you,” he says softly, pulling out of the driveway.

Esper picks at his nails, unsure of what to do or say. He’d never been praised for not doing anything. Then again, he hadn’t been praised in a long time.

The drive is silent, Esper looking out of the window at the streets they pass. The town is nice, trees lining the streets, nice houses, a giant park filling one of the squares. It’s quiet, almost no one around, since most of kids are still in school and people working or shopping.

They stop in front of a tall white building with a green plus sign peeking from the wall, indicating there’s a pharmacy inside. This must be the clinic, then.

Lusa parks in one of the reserved seats in front of the building and they get inside, a girl greeting them at the reception desk.

“Hey, Lusa,” she says, smiling. “You here to see Arme? He said something about you coming.”

“Yeah, we’ll go up,” Lusa replies, while Esper hides himself behind him, shrinking so he’s hidden behind Lusa’s larger frame. “Thanks Rena, we won’t be too long.”

“Mmhm, you know your way, right?”

“Yup!” And with that, Lusa makes his way through the hallways towards an elevator. Esper, startled by his speed, rushes to catch up, almost tripping over himself when the receptionist gives him a smile.

They take the elevator up, Esper frowning as pain shoots up his foot from his near-trip. Everything here is so sterile and white, and somehow, even the chlorine smell is comforting.

Arme’s office seems to be on the second floor, down a long hallway lined with soft seats and tiny tables covered in pamphlets and coloring books.

Nobody is there, fortunately, and when Lusa knocks on the heavy wooden door, it opens almost immediately. They’re let in, Arme sitting in his seat and typing something onto his computer. He stops when they enter, turning in his chair to face them.

“I almost didn’t think you’d come,” he says, motioning them inside. “I was going to call you.”

Lusa almost seems to pout. “You thought I’d forget? Seriously?”

“One never knows with you,” Arme remarks, and then makes a vague come hither motion with his hand. Esper doesn’t seem to get it. “Come sit, Esper.”

Esper tentatively comes forward and sits on the bed in the middle of the room. He looks around nervously, staying quiet.

Arme and Lusa exchange a look and then the white haired man sits on a chair by the door.

“Well, I’m Arme,” Arme says and then motions to his nurse, a short man with red hair falling into his face and a soft smile. The thing that catches Esper’s attention, though, is that he’s wearing a pink scrubs instead of the normal green ones like Arme is, peeking from underneath his white coat. “And this is Elsword.”

The nurse raises a hand to wave, “Feel free to call me Knight.”

Esper hums softly, “Yeah, you’re the one from Arc’s picture.”

His remark gets confused blinking. Shaking his head, Arme decides to get on with his job. “Alright, so how’s your leg?”

Esper swings his legs over the edge of the bed, frowning as he moves it around. “It’s better?’

"Is it really better?” Arme asks, raising his eyebrow.

Esper frowns at his feet for a moment more, and then he shrugs, shoulders tensing as he looks at Arme, his own eyebrows drawing together.

Arme sighs and Knight places a hand onto his shoulder, catching his attention. Arme looks over and Knight gives him a reassuring smile. “Hey,” he says, addressing Esper, “What happened to your foot, if you could tell me?”

Esper’s jaw clenches and he looks uncertain, peeking over to Lusa. God, this feels awkward. He’s scared of saying something wrong.

“Um… I fell on it?”

Knight nods, “How did you fall on it?”

“Uhh… Well, I was running and I tripped over the threshold. It hurt ever since,” Esper mumbles, afraid there’s something wrong with that.

“When was that?”

Esper stops at this question, blinking as he thinks. “Four? Five, days ago?”

Knight nods again, kneeling down and peering up at the lanky man. “Can I take off your shoe?” he asks, and waits for Esper’s tentative nod before he pulls the shoe off as gently as he can. “I’ll try moving it around a little, please tell me when it hurts.”

Knight takes ahold of Esper’s tiny foot, bending it at the ankle and the to the side, stopping immediately when Esper can’t help but hiss in pain. “It hurts when you turn it to the side?” he asks, and receives a nod. He stands up again. “It’s a little swollen, which isn’t good after so long. We will need to go take an x-ray to see if all the bones are alright.”

The nurse passes the sneaker back to Esper, who pulls it back on, looking back at Lusa. The man is still sitting there, watching him with a reassuring look. It sends shivers down Esper’s spine, and he can’t look at it anymore.

“I’ll get the papers for the x-ray, could you wait out for three minutes?” Knight asks, though it’s more of an order. Esper knows. He stands up, suppressing his wince. Lusa follows suit and they leave the office, sitting down in the seat opposite the door.

Arme sighs when the door clicks closed. “I’m terrible with people like this,” he admits, sending Knight a smile. “I can never believe how well you do.”

Knight beams at the praise, practically preening. “You said he was super scared of you at first, didn’t you? He’s not used to this. It’s like dealing with kids, you don’t wanna scare them.” The redhead leans over, pressing a kiss to the doctor’s lips. “You’re doing great, don’t worry, he just needs softness. Can you print the papers? I’ll carry them to Niva later.”

Arme hums, twisting in his seat to pull up the documents, printing them. “Are you going alone?”

“Yeah, you don’t need to come along, I got this,” Knight reassures, grabbing the pair of papers and leaving the office with another soft smile for his husband.

Esper jumps in his seat, shoulders hunching together. It’s just Knight, he notices, and slowly relaxes as the three of them make their way back down the hallway.

He likes Knight. He’s nice, seems like what Esper imagines doctors to be. Plus Arc likes him too, included him in the family picture. That’s more than enough for Esper.

They load up into the elevator again, this time going up to the fourth floor. The label above the arch reads Radiology when they step off. Knight leads them to the second door on the right, where another table sits, with… something mounted on it.

“Can you lay down, Esper?” Knight asks and Lusa squeezes Esper’s shoulders softly. It’s somehow reassuring. Esper lays down. “Okay, turn on your side and I’ll get started.”

Esper lays on his side and behind him, Knight operates the machine. He tells Esper to move over a few times to get different angles of the ankle. It’s over surprisingly fast.

Knight looks over the photos, frowning. He turns the computer monitor towards them. “You talus,” he says, pointing at the particular bone, “It got chipped right here, and whenever your joint moves in a particular angle, it causes the pain.”

Esper looks like he has no idea what a talus is, but the rest he understands. He’s saved the question of ‘what now’ when Lusa asks it instead.

“So, what will you do to it?”

“A cast should help. It doesn’t even have to stay on for long, just a week or two should be enough for the swell to lessen and the tendons and flesh to go back to normal,” Knight says, printing out the x-rays. “So, no more pain.”

Esper nods numbly, knowing he can’t really protest. Knight turns the machine off and then leads the two of them back.

Arme greets them back, already looking at the x-rays that Knight sent him. He prompts Esper to sit on the bed again while Knight says he’s going to fill in and hand in the papers.

Arme does his best to act like Knight. It’s hard; after all, they’re different, and Knight’s niceness and personality had been what pulled Arme towards him. He’s an orthopedist, he doesn’t deal with kids nor with sensitive people like former-school-nurse Knight.

He does his best to be gentle and make small talk when putting the cast on. He sends Lusa to wait outside, and the man follows his order obediently.

“How are you doing?” Arme asks, “Ankle aside, I mean.”  
Esper stays quiet for a while, and then says, “I don’t know.”

He actually flinches when Arme’s bright eyes look up at him and he stops in his work for a moment. Arme sighs, wishing that Knight had been there already. “A bad I don’t know? Or just… something different?”

Esper scratches around his nails, pulling tiny strips of skin off. “Well… It’s-It’s so different here,” he admits, looking to the side and out of the window. “I mean, I haven’t been hurt- since- since the first day, but… It’s so strange… I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Ah. Arme gets it.

“Have you been hurt before you came here?” He goes back to his work, tucking his fringe away. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

Esper seems to hesitate for a moment. “Yeah,” he says finally, softly.

“I’m a doctor,” Arme says, seemingly out of nowhere, like he hadn’t just put a cast on the white haired man’s leg. “I help when you get hurt. I’m best with bones, but Knight knows a lot about stuff like that. There’s a lot of other good doctors in here, too. Whatever you need, you can come here anytime.” It feels weird to assume the role of the one who reassures the patients, but Esper needs it.

Tears seem to gather in Esper’s eyes, and he only nods, trying his best to blink them away, lips pursed together to stop himself from whimpering.

“You can cry,” Arme says, and that’s all Esper seems to need to let go of his floodgates, giant tears rolling down his cheeks while he chokes out a sob. Arme stays close by, grabbing a napkin from the dispenser and rubbing tiny circles onto Esper’s back.

There’s pounding on the door and it opens after a moment, both Lusa and Knight jumping in, both looking distraught at the sound of crying. Somehow, Lusa even moreso than Knight.

“Are you okay, Esper? What hurts?” Knight asks, jumping forward to inspect the masterfully applied cast.

Esper shakes his head, rubbing the tears out of his eyes frantically and then blowing his nose with the napkin Arme hands him.

Arme looks at Knight as smiles softly, half-tiredly. “It’s fine, he just needs to get it out. Nothing’s wrong physically anymore,” he reassures his husband.

Knight blinks in realization, “Oh. I see.”

Lusa is by Esper’s side already, hesitant but obviously eager to do… something. Anything he can. He ends up sitting next to him, patting his back almost like Arme had been.

They wait for Esper to calm down, the tension leaving him along with the tears. Arme tries writing out the papers with the limited info on Esper they have.

“How old are you?” Arme asks, turning from the monitor, pushing his glasses further up his nose.

“Twenty two,” Esper answers. Knight is a little surprised by how willing he seems with Arme now, but not unpleasantly.

“Alright, your address?”

At this, Esper falters. “Don’t have one anymore.”

Arme hums thoughtfully. “We can check this out later, when we take the cast off,” he says finally. “You will need to get new papers, since you don’t have yours, do you?”

Esper shakes his head. That hadn’t been too high on his list of priorities when packing, so he didn’t grab his very empty wallet. He’s kind of regretting it now, since that’s just more trouble for Arme and Knight now.

“Don’t worry about it,” Knight says, as if sensing what path of thought Esper is going down. “There’s a ministry just around the block, you can go there whenever during the week.”

Esper nods, very obviously relieved by hearing that. With the cast in place, Arme tells them off, making sure to mention they should come in a week, two at most. He says 'they’ even though Esper could come alone. The man is much more comfortable with Lusa around, even Arme can see that.

“Thanks, Arme, Knight,” Lusa says, offering them a soft, tired smile. He leads Esper out of the office, leaving his friends alone.

Arme sags against his chair, pushing his glasses up and rubbing at his eyes. Knight sighs, sets down the papers onto the desk and drapes himself over Arme’s lap.

“You talked to him,” he says, doesn’t even ask. “You’re good at this when you try.”

Arme laughs and wraps his arms around Knight’s midriff, making sure he wouldn’t fall off. “Nowhere near your level,” he says, burying his face into the crook of the younger man’s neck. “He did say he got hurt before. I tried your approach, I guess.”

Knight hums. His own arms come up to rest on Arme’s shoulders, resting his head back against Arme’s shoulder. “It’s a mess with Lusa,” he whispers, glancing over to see when their shifts end. “But he’s good. If Esper decides to stay here, I think it’ll be okay. Even Arc seems to have a good influence on him.”

“He’s still a kid,” Arme mumbles, “I hate thinking what could’ve happened to him.”

“We’re not much older. I mean, aside from you. You’re an old man.”

Arme looks positively offended as Knight sticks his tongue out at him. “How _dare_ you! I’m just five years older.”

“Grandpa,” Knight teases, earning himself teasing fingers skirting over his sides through his scrubs. “Fuck! Noo-”

“That’s what you get,” Arme grins, tickling Knight until he’s a half-giggling, half-crying mess, and then he wraps his arms around him securely again, pressing a kiss to his neck. “How about we go for a dinner out tonight? The kids can stay at Ref’s overnight. I’m sure Lusa asked him to look after Arc too, so they won’t be bored at all.”

Knight hums, calming down. “Will we finally use the red candles in the top left shelf?”

“How do you know about those?” Arme asks, grumbling, “Those were a surprise.”

Knight grins. “Nothing in my house stays a secret from me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mmmmm i dont update my ao3 v often but ill try to for the sake of this fic bc im enjoying it so much. if you want to check if theres a new chapter tho, feel free to look @ [my blog](http://esper.co.vu/)


	5. Chapter 5

Esper had lost track of time, but that had been a while back already. Ever since he'd graduated from the university, he'd never even known what day it is. He didn't need to.

But it's Saturday today. He knows, because Arc isn't at the kindergarten and Lusa isn't at work.

The boy had come home in the morning, lugging inside a giant stuffed cat and his usual drawstring backpack. He'd been over at an uncle's, he'd said.

He'd been over at a friend's, Lusa corrects. He didn't want to leave the boy alone while they went to the policlinic. That also confuses Esper; wasn't it a hospital? Lusa assures him it's a policlinic. When he asks what the difference is, Lusa gives him a vague hand motion instead of an answer.

And so they eat their breakfast — aside from Arc, who'd apparently eaten at Ref's already. The boy seems frustrated with Esper's cast, for some reason.

He keeps glaring daggers at it, even as he tells them all about his night (or evening, more accurately) and about the amazing pirate fight in which he'd slain Anpa. Esper chews on his cereal, asking questions in between spoonfuls.

Lusa watches his son fondly. There's a spark in his big eyes, motions exaggerated as he uses his action figure (it's just a Spiderman Barbie) to show them exactly how the battle bad gone.

"I got it!" Arc exclaims out of nowhere, in the middle of a sentence, jumping off the chair.

Esper and Lusa both watch him with interest as he disappears upstairs, coming back down in a few minutes, markers in hand. His face screams determination as he nudges Esper's chair and pulls on his casted leg. He's nowhere near strong enough to pull it in the direction he wants, but Esper obliges, relaxing and moving the leg as he wants. He glances over at Lusa when Arc positions it on another chair.

Lusa simply laughs at his son's antics. Arc pulls out a red marker, taking the cap off with his teeth and descending onto the cast like a hungry vulture. The squiggles and shaky lines resemble... well, Esper has no idea.

"What is that?" Lusa asks, leaning over the table to take a look. Esper doesn't flinch away, and not just because of having his leg up.

"A cat! It's a cat!" Arc pouts, pointing with the other end of the marker. "See? This is its tail, and these are whiskers!"

"That looks more like a burnt breakfast," Lusa remarks, earning himself the marker, as Arc chuck it at him.

"Meanie! You're even worse at drawing!"

"You must've gotten in from someone." Lusa catches the marker with ease, handing it back and ruffling the boy's hair. "I'm joking, it's cute."

Esper smiles down at the child, looking at the doodles adorning his cast. "I like them, Arc. They're pretty," he says.

It lights Arc up, a bright smile as he switches for a green marker, adding more to the first doodles. "I'll cover the whole thing! Having kitties around helps healing! You'll be better in no time at all!"

"Arc's drawings help injuries," Lusa says, finishing his coffee in slow sips. "At least that's what he says."

Arc puffs up his chest, placing his hands on his hips. He seems proud of himself as he says, "They do! Just you wait, Esper is gonna feel better soon!"

Esper laughs, carefully lowering his leg. He won't tell Arc that it doesn't hurt anymore, since he can't bend it in the direction that it'd hurt. He can even walk on it, if he's slow and careful. Lusa still tells him to sit down and doesn't let him do much. He even stopped Esper from doing any of the house chores when they'd come back from Arme's.

Arc puts his markers away, ever the clean kid (especially under Lusa's expectant gaze).

He catches sight of the clock on the wall as he goes to put them away again. "Dad!" he cries, startling them both with the volume and urgency. "Dad, it started! It already started! Come on, come on!"

The boy tugs his dad up, pulling him towards the living room with all the might of a five-year-old a third of the size of Lusa can manage. Lusa catches Esper's confused head tilt and chuckles.

"Arc's favorite show airs at eight," he explains, "Feel free to join us if you want."

The TV turns on and Arc jumps onto the couch excitedly, calling for Esper, "Join us, join us!! I wanna show you my favorite show!!"

Esper shuffles his way over to the living room. Arc is patting the spot next to himself, looking at him with a smile that's all teeth and tiny dimples. Lusa sits next to him on the other side, remote in hand and switching through the channels to find the cartoon one.

Lusa finally finds the channel and sets the remote down, while Arc already points excitedly at the screen, almost off the couch.

"His name is Tom!" he says, vibrating in his seat. Lusa chuckles, since this is obviously very usual for the boy.

The cartoon is just a cat chasing a mouse, and then the mouse chasing the cat (?) and there is dynamite and Arc is laughing and Esper has no idea what's going on, but since the boy is happy, it doesn't really matter.

Esper isn't sure how long they stay there, gradually drifting together until they're leaning against each other, Arc sprawled halfway over them. Esper's eyelids flutter.

He's barely dozing off when he's stirred awake by Arc stretching and hopping off the couch.

"I'm hungry!" he says, "I'm hungry, I'm hungry! What're we having for lunch?"

Esper perks up, barely suppressing a yawn, and pipes up, "I can make something. What would you like?"

"No," Lusa stops him immediately when he attempts to stand up. "You're supposed to be resting. How about we get take out?"

"Oh! Oh! I want pizza!"

"Pizza it is then." Lusa digs in his pocket and pulls out his phone, unlocking it and passing it over to Esper. "There's the pizzeria app. Get one big pepperoni for me, a kid special with three cheeses for Arc — it comes with a toy, he loves it — and anything you want for yourself."

Esper browses the selection for a moment, selecting the ones Lusa told him to and then looking over the options. Hawaii sounds good. He likes the idea of something sweet on the pizza. He picks that one.

'Order placed,' pops up, so he hands the phone back to Lusa, curling up against the side of the couch again. Arc seems way too excited by the prospect of pizza, nudging Lusa's side with his tiny finger, over and over, until the man halfheartedly starts swatting him away.

"How long till it comes?" Arc asks, dodging Lusa's hand and jabbing between his ribs again, pulling a groan out of him.

"About half an hour," Lusa mumbles, tossing the phone next to himself between the cushions and turning to his son. "Don't act like this is the first time we've had pizza. What're you trying to do, impress Esper?"

Arc recoils, twisting his lips into a pout. "How would that impress him?!"

Esper watches them from his spot, tucking his hurt leg underneath himself, eyelids fluttering. He smiles softly, almost without even noticing. "You don't have to try and impress me," he mutters.

Arc sticks his tongue out at his father and then shuffles on the couch, settling by Esper and resting his head against the man's slim shoulder. They watch the cartoons, with Arc's attentive commentary and Esper's sleepy, affirmative hums to let the boy know he's listening.

There haven't been many free days, or days spent lazing around like this. Esper's fingers itch to do something, but his mind is hazy, eyes barely comprehending the pastely characters. He feels like he's floating on a flock of clouds, somewhere far up in the sky. It's a nice feeling.

He fades in and out of consciousness a few times, catching bits and pieces of what Arc is telling him and responding in tiny 'hmm?'s and 'ah's. Lusa fiddles with his phone on the other side of the couch, barely paying attention to them or the TV. Or so it feels like, at least.

It seems the half hour passes much faster than he notices, because the doorbell rings out and wakes him, and he's instantly sitting up, heart in throat.

Lusa stretches his arms above his head, letting out a yawn. "Pizza must be here," he says, getting up and waddling his way to the entrance door.

"Pizza! Pizza!" Arc chants, hopping off the couch and following after Lusa.

Esper stares after them, his heartbeat calming down gradually as he listens to Lusa talking to the delivery man, their voices muffled and punctuated by Arc's excited cries. He feels silly for being so strung up when there's no danger. There isn't any danger here, but he just can't seem to be able to convince himself of it.

It haunts him, fills his dreams during the nights so he wakes up in cold sweat, staring at a phantom standing over the bed. The voice is engraved into his ears, and he hears it through the deafening silence, when there should be a sting on his cheek and a barking of how useless he is. He still expects it, tenses up with each loud sound. Loud voices are the worst; they force his breath straight out of him and make his fingers shake so hard he's unable to do anything with them.

He didn't realize how bad it'd been until there wasn't yelling every other minute.

Shoving the memory of words way too sharp to the back of his mind, he stands up, though he finds he didn't have to. Lusa and Arc are back already, Lusa with a stack of boxes.

They settle back on the couch and Lusa checks the bigger boxes, passing the smaller one to Arc without hesitation. Esper is also passed a box before Lusa stands up again, disappearing into the kitchen and returning with a handful of tissues, setting them down onto the coffee table.

Arc tears apart the black plastic bag taped to the pizza box and pulls out its contents, eager to discover the surprise toy. It turns out to be a toy car, and he uses Esper's unsuspecting cast a road. Esper, with a slice of pizza in his hand, hanging down as he slowly chews on the greasy, cheesy food, doesn't seem to mind.

Lusa does, though. "Your food will get cold," he says, plucking the toy from Arc's hand and hiding it behind himself, much to the boy's chagrin.

"That's unfair!" Arc cries, trying to worm his hand behind his dad and retrieve it.

"I'll give it back when you finish eating," Lusa says, half illegible due to his mouth being stuffed with his own pizza.

Arc pouts, but quickly finds it won't help him in any way; Lusa simply ignores him and goes back to his phone game, tapping away as he makes his way through the slice, and Esper doesn't seem to understand his woes, and only offers him a slice of pizza from his box.

The boy huffs audibly and flops against the cushions, pulling out a slice and biting into it with the sole purpose of getting his toy back. (Okay, maybe the pizza is good. Maybe he's not _just_ doing it for the toy.)

"You finished with that?" Lusa asks, motioning to Esper's pizza box, his own held up.

Esper blinks at the sudden question, forcing down the immediate reply of 'no no no' in favor of the real one. "Yeah."

Lusa grabs the box and stacks it on top of his, and then gets Arc's too. "You don't have to eat the leftovers, we have a bunch of other stuff in the freezer, but I'll leave it in the fridge," he calls from the kitchen, trying to find a way to fit all three boxes onto the shelves somehow.

He lingers in the kitchen, though, popping his head through the door just barely so he could ask Esper, "Do you want coffee?"

Esper nods enthusiastically and paints a wide smile onto Lusa's face with that, the man disappearing again. Esper returns his attention to the TV and the cartoon still playing.

Arc had disappeared upstairs into his room with his new toy car, eager to play with it on his city-like carpet.

Lusa returns in a few minutes, two steaming mugs held in his hands. He passes one over to Esper, waiting until he wraps his fingers around it comfortably before letting go, settling down next to him on the couch.

"You don't strike me as the coffee type," he mumbles, so deep in thought he doesn't even notice he's said that as he sips his coffee softly.

Esper looks at him with a weird expression — then again, most of his expressions seem weird to Lusa. So guarded, so hurt, so unsure. He doesn't like them. "Is that bad? I drank it a lot while studying," Esper confesses.

An exhausted laugh leaves Lusa's lips and he shakes his head. "It's not bad at all, don't worry. Just surprising."

Esper hums, bringing the mug up to his mouth, taking a sip after blowing onto the liquid. "I see."

"What else do you like, Esper?" Lusa asks, seemingly out of nowhere, eyes gazing at the younger man with honest curiosity.

Esper brings a knee up and rests his cheek against it, holding the warm mug tightly and staring into the twisting liquid. "I like chocolate, it's my favorite. I didn't have it very often, and I had to hide it fr-" He stops, biting down on his lip, glancing sideways. Lusa still has that curious look on his face, but there's also something else, something... softer.

"Don't have to tell me," he reminds, and Esper feels his lips quirking up on their own.

"Mmhm. I also like Cheerios. Arc was right, they're the best."

Lusa laughs then, irises twinkling. Esper thinks about how he hasn't had a conversation like this in years. It feels good. "You got a sweet tooth, eh?"

"Guilty as charged."

Its weird not to expect yelling, or blows, but he can't say he minds at all. In fact, he wishes things could be this way forever.

He feels like a kid, wishing for an eternity, but that's okay. He's done some sillier things.

"Lusa , I..." He stops again, a mixture of a million ways to say 'thank you' hanging at the tip of his tongue, none feeling quite right. He looks at Lusa, at the way his eyes are softly looking back at him, waiting patiently. Esper swallows, unable to bear such a gaze. He looks down at the carpet.

"It's fine, Es," Lusa says when he stays quiet for a moment too long. Even his voice is soft. He's so different from the first time they'd met.

Esper's brows furrow at the nickname. "Es?" he echoes.

"Ah, don't like it?"

"No, no, I mean... I like it... Just, no one has..." Color rises to Esper's cheeks.

"I like calling you Es. Fits ya!" Lusa grins ear to ear and Esper curses himself for being unable to look for more than a split second each time. A smile tugs at his own lips, though, and something tugs at his heart as well.

"I'll call Arc," Lusa announces after a while. "We can play with him if you'd like."

Espee finds himself nodding, for once not jumping out of his skin when Lusa twists towards the staircase and calls out Arc's name.

It's exhilarating.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> （￣、￣＠）ｚｚ


	6. Chapter 6

He should probably feel a little more guilty at the fact that Lusa has to take days off ( _ ‘It’s fine,’ _ he’d said,  _ ‘I got someone to stand in for me.’ _ ), but in reality Esper’s just grateful.

The polyclinic smells just like the last time they’d been there, sterile and almost burning his sinuses, but Esper isn’t that rigid this time. Nor in nearly as much pain.

He even manages a small ‘hello’ to the receptionist. She seems surprised, but no less bright. Lusa leads them upstairs, the elevator’s  _ dings  _ loud in the relative silence of the building. Thankfully there’s no one waiting at Arme’s office and Knight opens the door pretty much at the second knock. He seems tired after a day’s work, but he still welcomes them with a smile.

“Hey, come in,” he says, ushering them in and closing the door as they do. Arme seems just as tired, slumping in his chair with a pen about to fall from his lax fingers. He perks up when he notices Lusa and Esper, though.

“Oh, I see Arc did his magical healing drawings,” Knight comments, looking over the colorful doodles covering the cast.

Esper smiles, rubbing his other calf against the cast almost nostalgically. “It helped.”

“Ready to get rid of this thing?” Arme asks as if the answer wasn’t obvious. Still, Esper nods eagerly.

He can’t wait to get it off.

He can’t wait to be useful again. It was probably only because he had it and because Lusa had felt guilty that he’d been nice to Esper. He already has an idea for the dinner and a speech of apology prepared in his head. Not that he’ll be able to get it out the way he wants, he knows himself too well to even hope for such a thing.

Arme gets a pair of scissors that seem almost unreasonable in their shape and begins cutting at the cast with only a curt warning to stay put for his own safety. Slowly, the cast is cut in two and carefully removed, even though it sticks to his leg.

“Everything seems to be alright,” he comments offhandedly, looking the ankle over. “You could’ve taken the cast off yourselves, but it’s better this way so I could’ve checked it. But it looks to be healed properly, so you don’t need anything on it anymore. Just make sure to only wash the leg gently, with not too hot water, alright?”

Esper nods numbly, testing his leg by swinging it back forth, twisting his ankle this way and that way to see if it still hurts. Thankfully, it doesn’t.

“Any pain?” Knight asks, pulling up the papers. He’s by the other table, starting to file out them out with Lusa’s help.

“No,” Esper answers when he realizes Knight isn’t looking at him and can’t see him shaking his head.

“Good,” Arme pipes up instead, “You’re to come here if anything acts up, got it? No matter how small. Anything small can turn into something big sooner than you can imagine.”

Esper nods along, storing the order away in his head. Arme seems happy enough with that and moves back to his desk, checking the papers as Knight hands them over. He writes down a few details and stamps the whole paper, closing the folder.

“Guess that’s all for now,” the doctor mutters, putting the folder away into a cabinet, under the G label.

“We’ll see you tomorrow, though, right?” Knight says cheerily, patting his scrubs down. He’d chosen a soft shade of red today; they suit him.

“Yeah, Arc’s been looking forward to it again,” Lusa grins, ushering Esper up and checking if he’s not limping. He turns to repay Esper’s confused gaze with a softer smile now. “Arme and Knight are bringing Shea and Anpa over to our place. It’s a tradition to do this every few weeks.”

Lusa’s brows furrow.

“But if you’d rather not, we don’t have to.”

Esper looks back at Knight, catching his gaze. “Yeah, we can reschedule it, if you’d like. Or take it to our place instead— you don’t have to come if you don’t feel like it.”

Esper is sure he would have a breakdown if he could breathe right now. He finds his lips tugging up into a soft smile. “I think it sounds like a nice idea, if Shea and Anpa are as great as Arc.”

Lusa’s eyes shimmer with something Esper can’t place and he doubles over, bursting into a laugh. “Oh, you don’t even  _ know _ .”

* * *

For some weird, but very welcome, way, Lusa knows exactly what to do to get him a new ID. He even pays the fee and smiles encouragingly while Esper gets his photo taken.

Esper can't help smiling back, and when he gets the tiny plastic card, he sees the photo of himself, smiling more genuinely than he'd ever seen himself smile. Warmth floods his chest and he grips the card tightly, and doesn't let the tiny evidence of his freedom and happiness go the whole car ride. If Lusa notices, he doesn't say anything.

Esper also can't stop looking at the new address written on the plastic card. Lusa had said it's just temporary, of course (how does he keep doig that?; making Esper feel like he isn't a prisoner even while doing things that would've otherwise ticked off at least ten red flags), but Esper has to admit -- not out loud, though -- that he kind of likes it. It's a solid evidence that he has nothing to do with his old house -- he shakes his head. 

Lusa said home is a feeling. That had only been a house.

He runs his fingers over the smooth plastic, over and over. He must look silly, but there are no comments from Lusa, even though he'd caught the other looking at him instead of the calm streets ahead.

"How about we stop at McDonald's?" Lusa asks.

They stop at a red light and Lusa turns his head to him in inquiry.

Another weird thing of his. He'll announce what he wants to do and phases it like a question, and then only proceeds if Esper nods at him. Esper is still not used to it. Doesn't understand why Lusa does it.

He gives a nod and Lusa replies with a smile. For some reason he's always pleased whenever Esper goes along with his choice of fast food instead of offering to cook. Not that Esper minds the fast food, don't get mistaken. In fact, he loves it. He'd never had the luxury of fatty burgers and oversalted fries and stretchy, gooey pizza. It's almost like living in a completely different world.

He likes it.

A lot.

Lusa pulls up in the drive-thru, giving Esper's leg a sidelong glance. The cast is supposed to come off soon, and it doesn't even hurt anymore, and yet Lusa keeps treating him like something fragile. It doesn't feel like he thinks Esper would break — because he wouldn't. He doubts anything could break him at this point. It feels more like Lusa just wants to keep him away from any kind of pain, like he's something to be protected or cherished. The mere thought is enough to make Esper chuckle while Lusa orders menus for them.

And only when they're back on the road, with paper bags full of food sitting in Esper's lap, does it hit Esper. It feels like a full-on collision with another car, and Esper doubles over with a gasp, whitened fingers gripping at the paper.

He stares ahead, eyes wide and almost unseeing. Tears roll down his cheeks in rivulets, fat and salty. 

Immediately, Lusa is pulling over to the side, looking at him with a startled, concerned gaze.

"Esper?" he calls out, hand hovering in midair as if he's hesitating to touch him. Seeing that only makes Esper cry harder, wail after wail tearing from his throat. It almost doesn't sound like his own voice, at least to his own ears. "Esper, what's wrong? Did something happen?"

Esper shakes his head side to side, bangs flying left and right. The tears don't stop coming even as he clutches the bags of food to his chest. They'll probably end up cold because of him.

He cries louder, choking on it halfway. It sounds pathetic and no doubt irritating, but Lusa shows no sign of anger. If anything, he just looks more scared.

"Sorry- Sorry, I-" Esper chokes out, voice giving out as he goes back to noiseless sobs and tears.

“Take your time,” Lusa tells him softly. Esper’s chest aches, like it’s devoid of every organ, at the gentle tone, the lack of yelling, tugging or punches.

Still, Esper can’t help the broken apologies tumbling from his bitten lips.

A dream. That’s what all of this feels like.

With great effort, Esper manages to open his eyes (which he doesn’t even remember closing) and look at Lusa through the sheen of tears. His brows are furrowed and he still looks like he wants to touch Esper, but refrains.

Esper wants to explain himself — it’s the least Lusa deserves — but he can’t find the right words. So instead he just opens his mouth to scream again. “It—” he hiccups when the scream dies out, his throat like sandpaper with each inhale. “It doesn’t… feel right. Ri—Real— I’m— this is…”

Lusa lets him blabber until he can’t anymore and then he falls slack, shoulders slumping heavily. Lusa holds up a hand again.

“Can I touch you?” he asks. Esper stares at him in silence, torn between the need to be alone, to run as far as possible and hide in a ditch and forget he’d ever been this vulnerable, and the surprisingly overwhelming urge to let Lusa do as he pleases.

There’s two outcomes to his; either he’ll get hurt, or he won’t. He doesn’t know one he wants.

Finally, he nods. It must’ve take a while, but still Lusa doesn’t say anything. Instead he softly places the hand onto Esper’s, not squeezing in any way. Just a comforting weight.

“Real?” he asks, prompting Esper to actually think.

The touch is nice. He nods.

Lusa smiles at him, his eyes narrowed softly with the gesture. “Take your time.”

“Too good…” Esper gasps, going rigid as Lusa moves his hand to his back and rubs small circles there.

The other man fixes him with a — somehow — knowing look. “It’s fine,” he says, leveling his voice to a quiet stability even though Esper’s is hiccuping up and down. “It’s not really… well,  _ too _ good. It’s the right amount of good.”

Esper stares at him through the tears in his eyes, incredulous. He’s biting down at his bottom lip, clearly mulling it over in his mind.

Lusa doesn’t pressure him into replying. “Maybe one day you’ll expect the right amount of good instead of waiting for too little,” he mutters, still rubbing his back while the floodgates of Esper’s tears open yet again. “Take it at your own pace. There’s no bad way in this.”

Lusa waits patiently while Esper finally calms down enough to keep going. He has to force more tears down the whole way, however.

It just feels unreal to have someone this nice, even though he can reach out and touch Lusa at any time to make sure.

And he does.

Lusa just gives him an encouraging smile when his fingertips brush Lusa’s shoulder, softly, like he’s afraid Lusa would disintegrate into smoke.

He doesn’t.

* * *

“It’s cold!” Arc complains as he bites into one of the chicken nuggets, hands already fully coated in the barbeque sauce, somehow.

Lusa stretches a hand to ruffle his hair. “Sorry, champ, we had to stop somewhere on the way. It was important.”

“Esper’s papers, right?” Arc asks, mouth twisting as he chew the meat.

Lusa nods, casting Esper a look. The man looks ready to fling himself out of the window, but at least he’s not crying anymore, so Lusa chalks it up as ‘getting better’. “Yeah, he got ‘em. If you ask him nice, he might show you— He got a really nice photo taken. Aaaand if you ask me nicely, I’ll reheat the nuggets for you.”

Arc’s eyes light up and he holds the paper box out. “Please, pretty, pretty please?”

Lusa laughs, taking the box out of Arc’s greasy fingers and kissing his forehead. He hands the boy a napkin from one of the paper bags. “Comin’ right up!”

While he disappears into the kitchen to grab a plate for the food as well, Arc clambers onto Esper’s lap, staring up at him through his disheveled fringe. Those doe eyes could probably make icebergs melt if Arc wanted them to.

“Show me,” the boy begs, “show me, show me, pleease!”

Esper places a hand onto Arc’s back so the boy doesn’t fall as he leans over and grabs the plastic card from the table. Arc snatches it out of his hand and scrutinizes the holographic elements with great interest.

“You look pretty here!” he exclaims finally, seemingly pleased with the small picture. “But you’re even prettier here!” The boy jabs a finger at Esper’s chest, smearing the leftover sauce on his shirt.

A smile stretches on Esper’s lips and he’s powerless to stop it. “Thank you,” he says, surprised that his voice doesn’t break midway. He’d never been called pretty. And Arc’s genuinity is all that much endearing.

Lusa reappears with the food, now arranged on a real plate, and that is also snatched as Arc makes himself comfortable on the couch, ID already forgotten as he flicks through the channels, looking for a particular cartoon, probably.

Lusa’s and Esper’s eyes meet; for once, the smile adorning Esper’s face doesn’t drop. Lusa gives a similar one back.

Esper seats himself by Arc and Lusa takes the boy’s other side, and by then, Arc had already found the correct channel. He shoves a nugget completely covered in sauce into his mouth.

Exaggerated laughs and high-pitched voices fill the air, all of them finally getting to their food. The fries are a little gummy as Esper chews them, but then he’s once again reminded that it’s his fault. And really, if it’s a choice between warm fries and a burger or the entirely encompassing feeling of safety and belonging, well…

It’s not a choice at all.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry this took so long but this fic is rly rlllly close to my heart and its very draining to write it in a specific way so thats why! ; w ;

Lusa had thought Esper would be uncomfortable, but much to his surprise (and elation), he isn’t. Then again, he hadn’t been that uncomfortable around Knight or Arme.

At least the second time around.

Esper had taken to cooking lunch for them all, the biggest pot sitting on the stove, filled with rice. A saucepan rests next to it, thick sauce with pieces of meat slowly cooling down from its boiling point. The scent permeates the whole house; it had lulled Arc downstairs from where he’d been preparing his room for the other boys.

“No, dad! I have to make it into a fort!” Arc had cried in the morning, stubbornly pulling along all the blankets and pillows that weren’t in Lusa’s own bed. As an afterthought, Lusa made him return a set to the guest room. Esper needs somewhere to sleep, too, after all.

The Sieghart-Ishmael family arrives right on time, not that Arme’s punctuality would allow for anything else. They come in like a hurricane, Shea chasing Anpa as soon as they’re out of the car and backing him right into the living room. Arc joins in, siding with Anpa, and soon enough, they tickle Shea back into being nice, the redhead pleading with them to let him go.

Lusa turns to offer Esper an apology, but is stunned to see the man laughing and making his way over as if it were the most natural thing, kneeling down and stopping the boys before Shea’s laughter could turn into tears.

“Great with kids, isn’t he?” Knight says, watching the scene from besides him. Lusa nods absently, his expression softening.

“He’s great in general.”

Knight snorts, casting the taller man a look, but doesn’t bother commenting. He follows Esper’s beckoning and goes over to the kitchen; Arme is right on his tail.

The table in the kitchen is way too small for all of them and soon enough there’s Esper, holding two too many plates. He seems to manage them all, though, setting them onto the coffee table with ease. Knight follows with a bottle of cola and his own plate, Arme with the other plates, and the kids with cutlery.

A heated debate starts between the boys and Esper about which superpower is the best and would win in a fight. In the end Esper convinces them that stopping time would be better than any magic. By the time they conclude this, the food is set out.

“Arc, why didn’t you tell us you have a new dad?” Anpa asks as Arc takes a mouthful — his timing is always impeccable. 

“Yeah, Esper’s so cool!” Shea agrees enthusiastically. 

Esper almost chokes on his food, coughing loudly to try and clear his windpipe. “I’m not Arc’s dad, guys,” he says, nervously looking at Lusa. He, however, didn’t seem to notice the remark. That, or he’s pretending not to have heard it, though Esper can’t fathom up a reason why he’d do that.

“But you cook and help me with homework,” Arc pipes up, having finally properly chewed and swallowed. “That’s what dads do!”

Esper doesn’t know how to reply to that, and Lusa is of no help whatsoever when he looks over again. In fact, he’s pointedly ignoring everything and switching through the TV channels faster than he can even notice what’s on them. But when he looks closer, Esper notices the prominent blush creeping into his tan cheeks.

“Does that mean Esper and Lusa do stuff like dad and papa?” Shead ponders, barely legible through the food he keeps cramming into his mouth.

“Like kissing and stuff?” supplies Anpa, at which Shea nods.

Esper’s heart skips a beat. Or a bunch of them. “I— I don’t—”

“Okay, that’s enough. You’re not supposed to talk with your mouth full, it’s rude,” Arme interjects, and his look makes Shea shy away in guilt, silently chewing through his next mouthful.

Esper stays silent for the rest of the meal, even when Lusa makes banter with Arme and Knight. The kids don’t seem to notice his detached state, but Lusa sure does, sending him concerned glances.

“What’s for dessert?” Arc whines when everyone but Arme is done with their food, looking at Esper with those big doe eyes. “Is it ice cream? Do we have ice cream, Es? Ice cream, ice cream!”

Anpa and Shea join in, equally as enthusiastic, voices whiny and prolonging the words. “I want ice cream, too!” “Me too, me too!” “Esper, please!”

Who is Esper to say ‘no’ to three matching pairs of pleading eyes? Plus it gives him the excuse to escape the stifling atmosphere in the living room that he couldn’t find on his own.

“I’ll go get you some. Wait here, I’ll be right back,” he says, smiling at the boys. He collects the empty plates and cutlery and retreats into the quieter and safer, less confusing kitchen.

* * *

“I want the ice cream!” Arc whines, kicking his feet up where he sits. The couch makes dull  _ thuds  _ as his tiny feet hit it.

“I’ll go help him,” Lusa says finally, pushing himself up and going over to the kitchen.

He finds Esper nervously shifting in front of the counter, three bowls of ice cream neatly arranged on it. But the container hasn’t been put away and Esper’s eyes are glued to it as he tangles and untangles his fingers sporadically, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

“Esper?” Lusa calls out, and immediately winces, because the lanky man quite literally jumps three feet up, shoulders going stiffer than Arme’s work face. 

“Ah, Lusa— I—”

“What’s wrong?” Lusa asks, to stop whatever excuse Esper has bubbling up from within him.

“Well, I…” Esper’s shoulders sag and he jerks his head to the ice cream container on the counter. He looks unjustly guilty and Lusa can’t figure out why. “I also… wanted ice cream,” comes out of Esper finally, quiet as ever. “I— Can I?”

So that’s what happened.

Lusa’s stomach makes a very uncomfortable flip at the familiarity of such uncertainty. He steps closer, but tries his best not to be too up in Esper’s personal space. 

“Esper,” he says, but the other man keeps his gaze pointedly trained to the floor. “Hey, can I touch you?”

After a moment, Esper gives a hesitant nod.

Lusa’s hand comes to rest on his shoulder, just a gentle pressure. It moves up and his fingers curl around Esper’s chin, only putting slight pressure, and ultimately it’s Esper himself who yields and lifts his chin, looking at Lusa with wide eyes.

“Listen to me, Esper, okay? There’s no— okay, are you listening, listen  _ closely _ , there’s  _ no _ circumstance where you couldn’t. You can eat the whole damn thing if you want to,” Lusa tells him, making sure Esper is looking right at him. “You don’t have to ask these things.”

He lets go of Esper’s chin, but he doesn’t move back yet, waiting until Esper says something, until it sinks in,  _ anything _ . He’s surprised when Esper’s hands come up and wrap around him, giving a small squeeze, but as quick as that, they’re gone; Esper steps back a little, scanning Lusa’s expression for any signs that that had been wrong.

He doesn’t find any.

“I— thank you,” he forces out, feeling like there’s a lump lodged right inside his throat. Lusa’s lips stretch out into a wide smile.

“You can have all the ice cream, but,” he says, moving to the cooking cabinet. “not without sprinkles.”

Esper is bewildered when Lusa produces a colorful box and scatters some (way too much) of the sprinkles onto all four of the bowls. Lusa notes Esper gave himself less ice cream than the kids.  _ Baby steps _ , he reminds himself. It’s a start.

* * *

Lusa pops up back from work while Esper eats dinner and watches something that looks awfully like a cat vine compilation.

“Hey,” he greets, and feels more worried than reassured when Esper hums in return, shoveling the reheated leftovers into his mouth. He doesn't even raise his gaze from the laptop. Lusa sets his bag down and plops himself next to the lankier man. “You’ve been… not yourself since the sleepover. If there’s something bothering you, I wanna talk about it.”

His tone — maybe a little more forceful than he’d intended — makes Esper pause, but he doesn’t tense up or do anything else to indicate he wants to get away from the situation.

“I—” Esper stares down at his plate, fork tapping against the blue plastic. “Sorry, it’s stupid, I just— keep thinking about what he kids said.”

Lusa reaches over and pauses the video with a tap, making sure they aren’t interrupted. “It’s not stupid,” he declares, stretching an arm. “Touch okay?” he makes sure to ask and only when he receives a nod does he put it around Esper’s shoulders. “If it makes you worry, it’s important.”

Esper laughs, though he seems to lose his appetite and sets the half-eaten meal onto the coffee table. “You think I’d make a good father?” he asks out of nowhere.

“Dude, you’d make a great dad! You can deal with kids really well and they like you too!”

Esper’s lips curl into a wistful smile. “Thanks. I… used to think dads were totally different, and I vowed I’d never ever be like him and— oh. I shouldn’t talk about that, huh?”

Lusa’s arm pulls Esper closer, almost unconsciously. “You don’t have to say anything you don’t want to. But if you wanna, I’m all ears for you.”

“He was a really bad father. I mean, I knew it wasn’t really normal, I just— I never realized how  _ not normal _ it’d been. Not until… I met you. And I— I really don't want to hurt Arc, but he thinks I’m staying and I don’t know how to tell him I’m not without hurting him and being like  _ him— _ ”

“Hey,” Lusa says, stopping Esper as he starts going down a spiral. He doesn’t even realize tears have sprung into his eyes — or that they started rolling down his cheeks — until Lusa moves to wipe them with a thumb. “Do you  _ want  _ to leave?”

“I— I don’t know?” Esper answers, though his inflection warps it into more of a question than anything. “I don’t want to freeload you, I already owe you a lot.”

A flash of uncontrollable rage bolts through Lusa. 

Not at Esper, god no, but at the fucker who made this his first thought process.

“You’re not a freeloader, and you don’t owe me shit.” Lusa takes a deep breath to stop himself from growling. Esper looks away, hiding his worried look. “Listen, you staying here? That’s me paying you back. Y’know, for sending you to the hospital?”

“You said it’s a polyclinic—”

“You never had to cook or clean or anything, but you did, and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable by saying something. I know you feel obliged to, I know that feeling, but I promise you aren’t. Plus it’s not like I’m gonna kick you out, if— if you don’t wanna leave. It’s nice having you about, y’know?”

“Wait—” Esper cuts him off again — the first time that has happened, he thinks — looking at him with a frown. “You— how would you know about this feeling?”

Lusa starts, but laughs. “You told me about yourself, so I’ll tell you too. Arc’s mom, her name’s Sera, and… y’know, she wasn’t the best person. We met at the university, we were in the same course, and I, I idolized her. She was pretty, she was smart and skilled and resourceful. I thought she loved me back, I really did. We worked together, but for her, the work was always a priority. We’d pull allnighters and she’d get me to bring her whatever she needed or wanted. I was more of an errand boy than anything partner-like. And her slaps were  _ legendary _ . I’m serious, she could send me sprawling halfway across the room with one if I did anything to get between her and her latest creation. I haven’t seen her since Arc was born; she just packed up and left. She never wanted a kid, but she used her pregnancy to wind me around her finger even more.”

“How…?” Esper asks, shakily. His brows are so drawn up that Lusa thinks they might stay like that if he keeps it up longer.

He shrugs. “She’d always go ‘I can’t bend over like this, you do it!’ or saying things like ‘You put the kid in me, but only I can get it out, one way or the other.’ That one was terrifying.”

“Wait, no! I meant… how can you just… talk about it like this?”

Lusa seems perplexed. “It was a long time ago.”

“But that— sounds horrible!” Esper almost cries out, “How can you be… so normal? I’m a— I’m a wreck!”

Lusa pulls the slighter man closer, so close, in fact, that Esper ends up leaning on his shoulder. He doesn’t complain because he appreciates the option to hide his face.

“As I said, it was a long time ago, and I had help. It took years, you’re not  _ supposed to be _ okay. Whatever happened to you is gonna leave a mark,” Lusa says, carding his fingers through Esper’s short hair. 

Esper mumbles something into the fabric of his shirt, but it’s too quiet to make out.

“What was that?” he asks, coaxing Esper to repeat himself.

“I said, do you think I could be like you? Okay?” Esper says, still in a low voice. His expression is utterly begging as he looks up at Lusa.

“Of course, Es,” Lusa answers, doing his best to sound sure of himself. “It takes time, but you’re away from him now. If you want, I can help you. Me and Knight and Arme. They were there for me when I was at my lowest.”

Esper chokes on a sob, “Why would you do that, though?” He sounds like he wants to believe him, but just needs the reassurance.

Lusa offers it with a big grin. “Because you’re my friend.”

Esper’s features melt into an unsure smile, like the liquid relief just flooded through him. “So you make friends by punching people’s lights out?”

“Not all, just the best ones.”

Esper snorts and takes the ensuing silence to play the video again. A cat falls off of the fridge only to land perfectly in a glass bowl. Its face is priceless.

“He was really awful, you know?” Esper mutters. Lusa keeps quiet to let him get whatever he wants off his chest off of his chest. “Made me clean the house every day, screamed if he found one speck of dust. Always wanted everything perfect. It’s all different here,” he says always wistfully. “It’s fun cooking here.”

“You can cook all you want. But I think the pantry needs to restocked for that.”

“I can go shopping tomorrow,” Esper offers immediately.

“How about we all go shopping tomorrow? Believe it or not, Arc actually loves shopping.”

Esper’s eyebrows raise. “I’m surprised.”

“Yeah, he always gets me to buy him a toy.”

“I’m no longer surprised.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it’s been a while, and i feel like i’ve already said this?? but this fic is very dear to my heart so it,,, takes a while,,, ah,,,,

“Hey, Es,” Lusa calls, knocking on the door of what had essentially become his room. The bareness of the guest room has been replaced with Esper’s presence, clothes hanging neatly in the closet, his things organized on the wooden table. Even the white sheets have been replaced, now a pale purple that took a whole day to learn is his favorite color.

“Yeah?” Esper replies, a little muffled behind the door. Lusa takes it as an invitation inside.

“Sorry, just wanted to talk to you alone for a moment,” Lusa explains, closing the door with a soft click. Esper sits up, curious.

“Alone? About what?” he inquires, patting a spot next to himself on the bed.

Lusa takes the invitation and seats himself next to the slighter man, thinking of how to properly word himself.

“Well, I was just thinking about yesterday, and I just wanted to apologize… I realized I didn’t,” he says finally, but it only seems to make Esper even more confused (and nervous, so Lusa hurries to elaborate). “Well, when the kids were over, they kept calling you Arc’s new dad and all and I just wanted to apologize on their behalf. They don’t know better, but I don’t want you to feel like I’m goading you into a relationship or something.”

Esper finally blinks, getting what Lusa means. He giggles. “Don’t apologize for that. I can see why they would think that. Plus I do a lot of ‘dad’ stuff, huh…?”

“You don’t have to, I told you before, you’re not here like a maid.”

Esper’s fingers twiddle with the comforter. “I know. I don’t mind doing them. But, I’m glad for yesterday. It was really nice to… finally talk about it. That sounds strange, doesn’t it?”

“Not at all.”

“But… I’ve been doing some thinking myself, actually. I don’t want to be a leech anymore… My leg’s healed, but I… don’t really have a place to go. Um…”

“No one’s sending you away, Es. You can stay!” Lusa hurries to remind him, but Esper just smiles, one corner of his mouth twisting further up than the other.

“You’re too nice, I know. But I don’t want to be a freeloader anymore.”

“You’re anything but—”

“Arme said you might need help at the shop, and I feel it’d only be fair if I paid you some of the rent.”

This catches Lusa completely off-guard, and it shows in his face, even if the proposition makes him immensely happy. “Are you sure you wanna do that though?” he can’t help but ask.

“Yeah!” Esper says instantly, brows set together in a determined expression. “I mean, if you wouldn’t mind me staying here.”

Lusa snorts. “I already told you I don’t. People’s opinions don’t change that easily. Actually, I’m really happy you want to stay.”

“Why?” Esper looks at him like he had just said something stupid. That look is familiar, but he knows Esper doesn’t mean any harm with it.

“Well, I dunno if you noticed, but you’re really cool. And you can make a mean stew. But you’re mostly cool. The stew is just a bonus.”

“Is that your way of saying you want stew for lunch tomorrow?” Esper snorts, lifting a hand and lighting pounding Lusa’s shoulder. Lusa laughs; Esper pulls it back like he’d been burned, but he doesn’t apologize. Lusa is proud of him.

“Maybe… But hey, building furniture is pretty hard. And heavy. So we can start with something small on Monday, how about it? Though I guarantee you, in a few months you’ll be strong enough to lift me.”

“Is that a promise or an offer?”

Lusa’s eyes twinkle with mischief. “Well, if you can lift me, you have full permission to!”

Esper’s face twists into a cute pout and he pushes the sleeves of his night shirt back. One hand slips under Lusa’s thigh, the other cups his back. And he heaves.

And he fails.

Lusa stays firmly seated on the soft mattress, no matter how hard Esper tries. In fact, he slips and falls forward, sprawling over Lusa’s thighs.

They both laugh heartily, even though Lusa’s cheeks burn with embarrassment. “Give it a few months,” he chuckles.

Esper picks himself up, sitting back. There’s a wide smile on his face, genuine and happy. All of a sudden, Lusa is glad he had come to talk, even if he’d been scared to.

“Hey, how about some cocoa before bed? Arc is already asleep so we can drink as much of it as we want to.”

“You’re a really selfish dad,” Esper laughs, “You’re having bad influence on me.”

“That’s exactly what I’m here for!”

* * *

 

“You hungry? There’s some leftovers in the fridge,” Esper asks, to which Lusa just shakes his head, not even looking up from the video on his tablet. “Well, suit yourself.”

Esper shrugs and stands up to grab some for himself, at least. His plush slippers drag over the carpet languidly, the fridge opening before him so he can take a moment to find the bowl of rice and meat that Lusa had to put on the top shelf thanks to all the yoghurts Arc insisted they buy for him.

Esper grabs it and closes the fridge with his hip, other hand now occupied with a carton of milk for his coffee. Lusa’s too.

He doesn’t catch himself humming a soft, familiar melody as he put the bowl into the microwave and sets water into the kettle, but it fills the kitchen nonetheless.

At least until the microwave beeps and he pulls the bowl out, burning his fingers on the hot edge and letting go of it on instinct. It clatters against the counter and then down onto the floor, rice exploding all over. Sauce flies everywhere; it’s on the floor, on the side of the sounder and even all over Esper’s shirt.

For a long and silent moment it doesn’t register in Esper’s mind. And then the ringing in his ears that he only just notices, is exchanged for an almost worried “What happened, Esper?” from the living room. Except it doesn’t sound as it should (or worse, maybe it does), the voice is deeper, louder, obviously colored by distaste and anger.

Esper stares down at the floor with wide, yet unseeing eyes, blood suddenly thumping in his ears, louder than even the voice. So it should make no sense for him to be able to hear the soft steps coming closer — angry, fast, stompy, he’s really angry today and Esper curls up on himself almost on reflex, his brain immediately supplying a dozen apologies and self-berations that he’ll rat out to try and stave off (or lessen, if his lucky star shines bright today) the inevitable pain.

“Esper!” he calls from the doorway — Esper can’t look at him, he’s angry, looking up at him would amount to talking back and he does not want any more punishment than he’ll be dished when he does everything properly. “Esper,” is repeated and that’s bad, that’s real bad, he hates repeating himself, and Esper’s uttering out, ‘I’m sorry, it’s my fault, I’ll clean it up, I’m sorry, I’m really sorry,’ as fast as his seemingly-numbed tongue allows him to.

His whole body shivers, scrunched up to hide his gangly form into something smaller, less of a target. The floor is spinning in his vision and it’s blurry at the corners, too. Esper can’t figure out why.

He quite literally jumps as he feels a touch on his shoulder, backing into the nearest wall to support himself. He’s sure he’d fall without it, and yet his knees still wobble like fresh jello.

His name is repeated and then followed by more talking, but Esper’s mind seems to slip further away and all he hears is an echo from far away.

He ends up curling by the wall, squeezing his knees close to his chest. His teeth are chattering in his mouth.

Someone is…

_Touching him._

He wants to back away, but there’s nowhere to, he’s cornered himself and there’s nowhere to escape anymore.

The touch is gone.

His eyes open wide, blinking forward to see what’s going on. He’s greeted with Lusa’s face, a small, strained smile on his lips.

“Lusa?” Esper tries — he sounds so raspy, his throat is parched.

“Hey,” Lusa replies, at last some of the worry creasing his brow dissipating. “How are you feeling?”

Esper’s gaze lowers again. He bites at his lip. “I— What happened?”

“Beats me,” Lusa shrugs. His hands twitch where they rest on his knee, obviously wanting to touch and hug Esper, but he’s not going to do any of that if there’s a chance of Esper not liking it. “I heard a crash and when I asked you what’s up, you were already… yeah.”

Esper’s eyes go wide. “That’s right…! The food. I’m so sorry, I’ll clean it up, I— I didn’t wanna drop it! I’m terrible, but please please don’t be mad at me!”

Lusa shakes his head vehemently. “Nah, I’ll clean it up. You’re gonna get some food and a nice cup of that good hot cocoa and wind down. You look terrible.”

“But—”

“Esper, no buts, please? It’s okay, it’s just some rice, it’s not a big deal to clean it up. Hey, can I touch you?”

“Yes,” Esper replies immediately. It makes Lusa’s eyes narrow, but not in an angry way.

“You sure? Not just saying that to please me?”

Esper averts his eyes, cheeks flushing with shame. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Would it be fine if I helped you up and maybe wrapped you in a blanket?” Lusa asks again, patiently.

Esper has the distinct thought deep inside that he doesn’t deserve such kindness. “Yeah,” he answers again, because Lusa offered and he can’t think of anything better than making sure Lusa is real and here and this isn’t all just another fabricated dream he’ll wake up from. “Um…”

“Yeah?” Lusa hums, pulling him up by the hand, gently, slowly, making sure he wouldn’t fall down.

Esper swallows heavily, mustering up the courage to keep pushing his luck further and further. “Could I… get a hug? Please? I mean, if you don’t want to that’s fine, I just… sorry.”

“Come here, Es,” Lusa coos, pulling the other close so he can hug him into his chest.

Esper melts into the embrace, shoulders sagging. He feels completely drained and the tears that roll down his cheeks are silent. Lusa holds him gently until he shifts back. Esper’s eyes are rimmed with red and cheeks puffy. Lusa smiles despite himself, a soft, sad upturn of lips.

“Go eat, okay? I’ll be right there. Maybe take a nap, too?” he proposes, and Esper nods numbly.

Lusa heats up another portion for him and even grabs the blanket he promised to drape over the other before cleaning up the mess. He wasn’t lying; it only takes a few minutes of sweeping before the floor is alright again (and before Lusa gets too anxious anyhow).

Esper idly watches some soap opera on the TV, shoving spoonfuls of the food into his mouth with one hand and holding the blanket up with the other.

“How’re you feeling?” Lusa asks, settling down onto the couch as well.

Esper glances at him for a second only before looking away, brows drawing together. “Awful,” he says quietly, “Maybe like I’m gonna puke.”

“Don’t push yourself,” Lusa replies, tone empathic, a little relieved when Esper places the plate and spoon onto the coffee table. “Is there anything you’d like? Anything you think would help you? At all?”

Esper stares through the TVm ignorant to the arguing characters; Lusa turns it down anyhow. “Maybe…” Esper mutters something under his breath, too silent for Lusa to make out.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“I said… maybe… one more hug?” Esper mumbles again, hiding his face in the fold of the blanket.

Lusa can’t help but snort soundlessly through his nose, scooting closer to the other. “As many as you’d like,” he declares, wrapping an arm around Esper. He waits to see any discomfort, and when he doesn’t, he pulls him closer to lean onto a shoulder. Esper nests himself there, spreading the blanket over them both.

“I’m sorry,” Esper says, “about before. I mean…”

“It’s not your fault. I’m not angry at you.”

“You really aren’t?”

“Really really.”

They fall into silence, but then Esper asks, “How are you so good at this? It almost feels like you’re just saying whatever will calm me down.”

Lusa’s brows crease just a little and he holds Esper just a fraction tighter, still conscious. “I mean every word, I hope you can believe it. Maybe not now, but in the future. I know what used to calm me down before.”

“Were you like this?”

“Yeah,” Lusa nods.

“So there is hope for me too…? I want to be normal, too.”

“You are normal, Es, I swear. And you’re already doing better than before. Look, we talked it out, didn’t we?”

“Just because you know how to.”

“That’s what it’s about. Now you know, too.”

“I can’t do anything like that… It’s… it’s weird when it happens, I feel like I’m somewhere else… back home.”

“But reminding you helps, right?”

“Yeah, I guess. You’re too nice to me, Lusa.”

“We went over this. The right amount of nice.”

Esper snorts, almost nuzzling his cheek into Lusa’s shoulder. “The rightestest, then.”

Lusa bursts into mirthful laughter. “Arc has bad influence on you.”

Espe chuckles softly, “Everyone has bad influence on me, apparently.”

* * *

 

"Don't stuff the whole toast into your mouth," Lusa chastises as Arc tries to do just that, failing miserably and getting butter all over his face.

Esper laughs and reaches for a napkin to wipe it off for him. Arc doesn't wait a second to take another bite, grumbling, "I'll manage it someday," as he does.

"Come on, finish it or we'll be late."

"It doesn't matter, dad! The teachers don't care even if we come in the middle of drawing," Arc huffs and Lusa, in turn, flicks him on the forehead.

"Well, they might not mind, but I have to open shop, because if I don't open it, we won't have money and you won't even be able to have toast. Would you like that? Plus I thought you liked the drawing part of the day?" Lusa asks, smiling lopsidedly as Arc shovels the food down faster. "Hey now, make sure to chew and not choke. I don't want you to hurt yourself, that'd be much worse than being late."

"Uh-uh," Arc nods, chewing and swallowing carefully.

"Well," Lusa turns to Esper, with his bowl of cereal, "How are ya feeling? Ready to do some assembling?"

"Yeah!" Esper replies immediately. He swallows another mouthful of over-sweetened, ground-up wheat and smiles warmly. He's not just ready, he's obviously excited.

Part of the excitement is due to work -- he hasn't worked in an actual job, just the housework for father. but Lusa had gone through all the basics with him yesterday. They'd even gone and set up a bank account for him, and Lusa said he'd be paid monthly. Esper insisted on paying rent, so Lusa agreed on taking a hundred, 'and not a cent more'. Well, it'd been at least something, so Esper took it.

They finally finish their breakfast and Esper puts the dishes into the sink, rinsing them and only having a tiny crisis about not having enough time to clean them.

Lusa goads Arc into the car, tossing him his bag with a roll of his eyes when he forgets it in the kitchen. Esper follows, seating himself in the passenger seat and strapping himself in. Mostly because Arc only ever follows the example if they all do it first, Lusa gets in last after making sure to lock the house. They drop off Arc at the kindergarten and then they drive to Lusa’s shop, with half an hour to spare before opening time.

Esper trails after Lusa, who goes straight to the back. Esper lags by a row of carved furniture and intricate trinkets sat in a multitude of shelves.

“You made all these?” he asks curiously, stopping for a moment to ogle a small jewelry box with carved vines snaking around the edges.

“E-yup!” Lusa calls, voice half muffled.

Esper catches up, going through the door labeled ‘storage’. And storage it is, with planks stacked high and towers of boxes, labeled in chicken scrawl reaching almost to the ceiling in some spots.

“That’s amazing… All of them are so pretty…”

“Well, I got pretty good at carving over the years,” Lusa laughs, picking up one of the planks from the stack like it weighs nothing. He carries it out of the storage into the main room, where he sets it down next to the counter with a small  _thud_. There’s a saw machine behind the counter — scratch that, there’s a whole woodwork station there. “Anyway, I  don’t know how familiar you are with assembling furniture, so I’ll run you through it. You won’t have to do any of the heavy stuff or carrying wood or anything… Just, like, screwing stuff together or painting it, or running the register, that kinda stuff.”

“I’ll do anything you put me to,” Esper grins. If he would’ve realized he’s not scared of Lusa ordering him around, he would’ve felt proud of himself.

“Okay, let’s start with a simple box then. Like the ones over there,” Lusa says and points over at the group of jewelry boxes sitting on display. Esper nods. “Forget the plank, that's for a shelf later. But first, we gotta get out of these clothes. I don’t actually know if I have a work shirt that’ll fit you…”

Lusa disappears into the back room again and Esper learns there’s a bathroom and a small kitchen area when he pops his head in to see what’s going on. Lusa had exchanged his t-shirt for a purple one, bearing the wear-and-tear of a woodworker, but nothing too obvious. Lusa might be a bit disorganized something, but he’s a cleanly person (sans his floors, but that’s another story and another carpet to vacuum cereal out of. Esper will never admit he was the one who spilled it at three am).

“Here, try it on? It’s the smallest I’ve got here,” Lusa says, passing the very same-looking shirt over to the other. The tag reads M, a leftover from when one of the college kids from the town over helped out Lusa over the summer last year.

Esper slinks his way to the bathroom and switches the shirts. It’s not as bad as it could be; the shirt is loose on him, but nowhere near as loose as Lusa’s actual clothes would be.

Lusa gives him an appreciative once-over when he pops out again. “I could get you a size smaller if you’d like, but it’ll take at least a week to ship. It’ll probably be too short for you, though…”

“Not, this one’s fine, Lusa,” Esper reassures him. He had actually come to appreciate loose clothing over the past month or so.

“Alright, now that’s we’re suited up, how’s about we go and tackle that box, hm?”

* * *

 

The box turns out okay… Actually, it turns out great, because Lusa guides Esper through it, holding the small pieces in place while he figures out how much force to push the power drill with.

It had only taken a little bit, barely half an hour at most, and Lusa took the box to start carving into the dark wood with his little whittles. Esper watches with enrapturement as small motifs come to life beneath Lusa’s fingers, tiny whittlings falling onto the floor. The whole shop feels like a well-oiled machine. Esper is busied with a plethora of diagrams and instructional manuals on different things.

In no time at all, he manages to assemble a fair few things; a few more boxes, a small cupboard, a shelf and a birdhouse.

They don’t look anywhere close to the masterpieces Lusa had created and meticulously spread all around the shop, but then again, they haven’t been lacquered nor polished, or even carved with intricate embellishments.

A few people stop by over the day and Lusa sounds overly excited as he explains who Esper is when they ask. He’s also very pleased when Esper asks about the customers in return, saying that ‘this is the only shop like this in miles!’ People come from all around to order handmade furniture and buy trinkets, or even bring they battered pieces for repair and refurbishment. Some people even collect his trinkets, like the boxes, that’s why there’s so many designs.

No way in hell could Esper have imagined that Lusa is this skilled or known, but it certainly doesn’t come as a surprise after getting to know him.

He’s just about finished with that shelf Lusa took the very first plank out for when Lusa stands up from his seat, back popping as he stretches languidly, almost like a cat awaking from slumber.

“It’s almost time, Es,” he says, pulling Esper’s attention. “Time to close shop. That shelf looks great, we’ll paint it tomorrow. For now, let’s just sweep and put all the leftover wood into that box over there,” he points to the sturdy box full of scrap wood in the back. “You did tremendously for your first day. Kinda don’t believe you’ve never done this before, to be completely honest.”

“I—” Esper tries to say something, but he fails, face flushing an admittedly cute (at least in Lusa’s humble opinion) shade of pink at the praise.

“I thought we could get some ice cream on the way home. To celebrate or whatever?”

“Oh, that— That sounds lovely!” Esper smiles softly.

“There’s this great ice cream stand a few blocks down, you’ll love it! Let’s pick up Arc and go there.”

“Yeah! Now, where is the broom? I’ll sweep the floors.”

“Nah, I’ve got it.”

“‘ _Nah_ ’, I’m faster. And I really want the ice cream as soon as possible,” Esper pouts.

Lusa laughs in reply. “You got me. I’ll clean up the wood then,” he says, grabbing the broom to hand to Esper with a matching smile.

It truly is a blessing to have Esper him.

* * *

 

“Arc, it’s already past bedtime,” Esper grumbles, standing in the doorway. “Turn the TV off and go to your room.”

“But, Eeeeeesper,” the boy whines, holding up one of his fairytale books. ”I want a story! And I can’t ready, so can you read it for me?”

“Arc,” Esper scoffs, “Do I look like I know how to read?”

Arc pouts, but he does spring up. Only not to go to his bed, unfortunately. “Then I’ll just ask dad!”

“Does he looks like someone who can read?”

Rambunctious laughter spills from the kitchen, Lusa doubling over the table to clutch at his stomach as he laughs uncontrollably.

“But you’re adults! All adults know how to read! You’ve read to me before!” Arc protests, puffy and huffy as he thrusts the book up at Esper as if that would make him change his mind.

“We forgot last night. It’s a terrible curse that happens when someone wants us adults to read too much.” Esper tries his best to maintain a straight face while Lusa wheezes for breath.

Arc blinks and then almost bursts into tears. “That’s horrible! I’m sorry!”

Esper leans down and pats his head, ruffling his hair. “It’s okay, it always passes, so we can read you stories later.”

Arc sniffles and nods tearily. “Uh-uh! Promise!”

“I promise, Arc. Now, go to bed or you’ll be tired tomorrow.”

Arc nods again and presses a kiss to Esper’s cheek, which Esper returns with a smile. “Goodnight, do your best to remember!”

Arc’s footsteps pitter-patter upstair, leaving Esper to finally crack and burst out with laughter. “Oh my god!”

“I can’t believe you did that,” Lusa mutters, rubbing a hand over his face to wipe the tears. “And I can’t believe it worked!”

“Oh man, I felt so bad midway,” Esper groans. His (and Lusa’s, too) shoulders are still shaking. “I had to get out of it somehow.”

“You damn well did, holy fuck…”

“You’re not mad I bamboozled your kid?”

“Absolutely not, spares me having to read that story about a cat in a glove yet again. Plus it was fucking hilarious.”

Esper grins, fishing for his phone. He finds the right email and turns it around to show Lusa. “Anyway, I wanted to show you this!”

Lusa squints at the screen. It seems to be an email from the bank about a money transfer. The recipient’s account number looks so familiar, he knows for sure it’s his. “Hey, don’t you know I can’t read?”

Esper dissolves into more cackles and the phone finds its way to the edge of the table. “You’re right, how could I forget. But I just wanted to show you. I’m really happy about it—I’m not a freeloader anymore!”

“You never were,” Lusa comments immediately. “But I’m proud of you. You did a great job over the month.”

Esper grins, stretching and heading into the living room. Lusa follows suit, plopping down onto the couch while Esper runs through the channels to find their favorite show.

Warmth blooms in the pit of Esper’s chest as he settles down, leaning halfway onto Lusa. The words keep repeating over and over in his mind and he can’t help the smile that keeps worming its way onto his face.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hell

“Okay, where do they have the ham?” Esper asks, looking down at the shopping list in his hand.

Arc sits inside the cart, shifting every few minutes and peering over the edge of the bars as they navigate the aisles. He already has quite the hoard of sweets behind himself, easily utilizing his ability to coerce both his dad and Esper. The twinkling in his eyes promises he still has more he wants from the store and will do anything in his ability to get it.

Lusa steers the cart down the seasoning aisle. “Here, at the end,” he instructs, leading Esper to the meat and cheese section.

“Emmentaler tastes good when shredded,” Esper mutters to himself, looking at the cheeses all spread out. “Or maybe gouda. Which do you want?”

"Dude, I know even less about cooking than Arc,” Lusa tells him, leaning onto the handlebar and letting Esper choose.

“Gouda sounds good, sure,” Esper says then, rolling his eyes. “It’s not that I don’t like cooking,” - especially when you both love whatever I make so much - “But how the hell did you two even survive before I turned up?”

Lusa gives him a sheepish look, shrugging. “Dinosaur nuggets and pizza?”

“I want pizza!” Arc interjects, rocking the whole cart with his weight.

Esper’s expression softens, as it always does with Arc, and he reaches over to ruffle the boy’s hair. “Well?” he asks Lusa, “What do you say about pizza dinner?”

Lusa grins. “Goopy cheese and too much fat? I say I’m all down!”

“Fuck yeah!” Arc yells, full volume and gathering the attention of no less than a dozen of parents.

Lusa puts up his hands immediately when esper fixes him with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t look at me, I didn’t teach him that!”

There’s an uncomfortable feeling of being watched as Lusa helps Esper load the groceries into the trunk of the car. Arc is happily munching on a chocolate-covered cereal bar, completely unbothered by whatever it is that has Esper’s hairs standing on end.

Not even Lusa notices anything, engrossed with trying to Tetris his way around all the bags they got and boxes already sitting in the trunk. He yells victoriously when he manages it, pulling Esper’s attention from looking around.

He doesn’t notice anyone with their eyes glued on him, but then again, they might’ve hidden while he’d been distracted by Arc’s rambles about who’d win; Captain Crunch or Nesquik Rabbit. Or he’s just being paranoid again.

Nothing bad has happened to him in a while, so it’s not that surprising that he’d get anxious, right?

* * *

Esper’s worries manage not to rub off on either Lusa or Arc. Nothing is amiss in their hectic lives, just more dinosaur meat and pizza that makes the neighbors jealous with the scent.

Spring rolls around to its end by them, temperatures rising into borderline uncomfortable digits. Esper isn’t sure how the time had managed to fly so fast. He can still remember the day he’d met Arc and, subsequently, Lusa, like it’d been yesterday. It seems so far away now, though, like it’d happened a lifetime ago; after all, Lusa hosing down the car in nothing but his shorts is so far from the man who had decked him for picking up his child.

Esper adjusts his summer hat, hand holding tightly onto Arc’s. He has no qualms about walking up to Lusa and tickling his bare sides, making him jump and spray a good portion of the garage door.

Esper chuckles, “We’re going. Do you want anything from the store?”

Lusa turns off the hose for a second, wiping sweat off his brow. “Nah, we still have the sautee you cooked earlier. Just make sure not to buy everything Arc wants,” he chides with a grin.

Arc tugs on Esper’s hand, pouting at his dad. “You promised me the bag!”

Esper leans down to pat his head with a gentle hand. “I’ll get you the kitty bag, don’t worry.”

Promises are best kept, after all, especially when it’s something as banal as a thirty dollar bag. Arc is only a peg or two away from jumping in joy, rocking on the balls of his heels.

Esper is sure he’ll do great in school once it starts. Lusa had already enrolled him at the local grade school, so all that’s left is getting the supplies. Arcss old pencils will no longer do, and that’s just once of the bullet points on Esper’s shopping list. His neat handwriting and Arc’s doodles intermingle on the paper, tucked safely in his back pocket.

“Okay then, but if you remember anything, call anytime,” Esper says, tugging Arc as he heads down the street.

“Bye, dad!” Arc shouts back, almost skipping next to Esper.

Looking down at him, at how excited he is by the prospect of a simple bag, Esper resolves himself not to listen to Lusa for once. If Arc wants something, he’ll just get it for him, money be damned this once.

* * *

Being completely honest, Lusa had spent a little too much time washing the car, but the warm sun is pleasant on his bare skin and he doesn’t really want to stop even when every silver surface gleams in the sunlight, almost too much to look at for too long.

His hair drips drops that’ll soon evaporate, having decided to just hose himself as well when he had gotten too warm for comfort. He thinks back to the shorts Esper had put on, a style you’d be more likely to find on a girl, but they fit him so well, and they were nowhere as long as Lusa’s, and he’s pretty envious right about now.

He’s lost in a fantasy involving the outdoor dining set, Esper, Arc and the leftover ice cream from the freezer when a car pulls up. A black Sedan, polished and shiny, and pulling up in  _his_  driveway.

Lusa puts the hose away, brows set in a frown, eyeing the car as a man steps out, clad in a tailored suit, with hair slicked back and white as snow. He looks around, wrinkling his nose before he finally notices Lusa standing there. At that point, his lips stretch into a wide smile.

He strides forward, extending his hand towards Lusa, who reluctantly takes it.

“Asker, nice to meet you,” he introduces himself, “I’ve come because of Esper.”

* * *

“Arc,” Esper calls, peeking into isles in search of the boy who had no doubt found a toy he had to go investigate closer. “Arc! Where are you?”

“Here!” comes from an isle, but Esper has no idea which one in particular, so he continues on with his search, at least knowing Arc isn’t that far.

Predictably, he finds the boy in one of the toy isles, holding onto a cat plush almost his size and looking up at him with puppy eyes worthy of an Oscar. Esper smiles, shaking his head.

“You can’t get every cat plushie you come across, Arc,” he says softly.

“Aww, come on, Es,” Arc’s voice goes up as he pleads. “Look at her, she’s so fluffy!”

“I found the backpacks, don’t you want to go there instead?”

Arc’s face lights up at the mention of the backpacks he’d been wanting for so long, but he doesn’t let go og the plushie. “But what Miss Meow?”

“You already named her?” Esper asks, incredulous. “I guess we do have to take her home, then.”

Arc squeals, twirling in the spot with the gray plushie like a victory dance. “Thanks, daddy!”

Esper sputters at the title, but he doesn’t get to reply because Arc runs off again, and not in the correct direction.

“Come on, Arc, this way!” Esper calls after him, weaving through displays to make sure Arc doesn’t topple something over. “C’mon, we’ll pick you a bag and get some fruit for a salad, how’s that sound?”

“Sure! But no pears!”

“The pears aren’t even in season right now, don’t worry,” Esper laughs, steering the child towards the stationery isles. The closer they get, the more visibly excited Arc gets, almost vibrating as he rocks.

He runs right ahead when the first bag comes into view. There are several colors and animal shapes, but it’s of little surprise to Esper that Arc goes right for the white kitty. He hugs it to his chest, squishing the fluffy fabric against the real plushie.

“That one, huh?” Esper asks, though it’s almost rhetoric. Arc nods enthusiastically, twirling with his new friends. “Well, c’mon, we have to get stuff to feed her.”

“Him! I’ll call him Apo!”

“Okay, then we have to find stuff to feed Apo.”

“I want those blow pens, Es!” Arc squeals, looking the colorful notebooks already.

“Like the ones on the TV?”

“Uh-uh!”

“Didn’t your dad say no to those?”

“But Esperrrr, they’re so cool!”

“Okay, how about this? I’ll get you the pens, but you have to help with dinner.”

It’s an offer Arc can’t say no to, and he doesn’t even try to, already nodding along with diligence. Esper can’t help but smile to himself.

* * *

“Still not too heavy?” Esper asks, raising an eyebrow at Arc as he huffs under the weight of the backpack. They’re almost home, though; he’s no less proud of Arc than he’s surprised at his stamina.

Arc just juts his bottom lip out. “Nope! I’ll have to carry this much to school every day!”

“You won’t, don’t worry. You won’t need all the notebooks at all times, you know?” Esper reassures him. Even if Arc doesn’t reply to that (still trying to keep up his tough facade; he’s so much like his father) he visibly relaxes.

Esper’s lips tug up into an unconscious smile and he barely restrains himself from ruffling Arc’s hair.

“You excited to start school?” he asks instead, shifting the grocery bags in his hold.

“I’m gonna be the best in the class! No, in the whole school!”

“The best, huh? In what?”

“The best!” Arc repeats, more firmly.

“Berc?”

Arc’s smile lights up his face. “Yeah! I’ll be Berc!”

“Your dad will be so confused,” Esper muses, “if I just started calling you Berc already. Y’know, because you’re already the best.”

“Hey, hey, Es! Let’s prank dad! You’ll call me Berc and I’ll you Bes! He won’t know what’s up!”

“Don’t you want him in on the whole name thing, though?”

“Maybe later. C’mon! Essss! You don’t prank dad nearly enough!”

Esper sighs, but he’s still smiling. “Okay, you’ve recruited me. Let’s do it.”

“Fuck yeah!”

“Arc! You shouldn’t say that word!” Esper reprimands, looking around to see if anyone heard Arc say that.

“What, ‘yeah’?”

“No! The other one!”

“Fuck?”

“Arc!”

“Why shouldn’t I say it?” Arc pouts, playing with the straps of his backpack.

“It’s a bad word. You can say it as much as you want when you’re older, okay?”

Arc grumbles, but ultimately hums in affirmation. He likes making Esper happy, after all.

They round the corner and the house comes into view. Lusa’s car shines in the afternoon su, squeaky clean. But there’s another one parked nearby, and Esper squints at it as they come closer.

“Looks like dad has a customer over, make sure to be nice, okay Arc?”

“When am I not nice?”

Esper foregoes an answer (Arc is a really nice kid, he can’t argue with that) in favor of fishing the keys out of his pocket. It takes a moment, during which he curses the one-sided handle on the front door, but then he’s finally opening it and it’s forgotten.

“We’re back!” he calls into the house, making a beeline for the kitchen to put away the groceries. He peeks into the living room as he passes it, spotting Lusa’s unruly hair peeking from over the edge of the couch.

“Hey, Es! Welcome back!” Lusa greets, twisting around to look over said edge. However, his voice gets further and further away, until it’s like he’s speaking from another end of a long, empty tunnel.

Esper’s gaze is glued to the armchair, housing a man in his forties like a sick imitation of a throne.

“—e’s here to see you, Esper.”

Esper’s heartrate spikes abruptly as he rows the wrinkles he knows all too well, peers into the eyes hidden behind thick-rimmed glasses that seem to swallow him whole.

“It’s been a while, Esper.”

That  _voice_. Esper’s whole insides suddenly want to be anywhere but inside him.

“…ather…” he forces out of his suddenly all-too-dry throat, without even wanting to.

His whole body feels numb; something falls to the floor and it takes Esper a minute to note it had been his grocery bags, because now he can close his fists all the way.

He takes a step back. Lusa’s eyebrows scrunch up; he’s saying something. Esper can’t hear it. He twists around and zeroes in on the door.

Arc peers into the room, confused and curious, and Esper isn’t thinking — he sweeps Arc off his feet and holds him close to his chest as he rushes out of the door, knocking the hat off his head as he runs down the street. He’s unable to hear Arc’s questions over his pounding heart, can’t see much through the tears falling from his eyes.

He’s not sure where he’s heading, just that he needs to get away. The streets pass them all too quickly.

“Esper!! Es!” Arc cries, pounding on Esper’s shoulder, or wherever he can reach. “What’s going on!”

Esper doesn’t reply, still doesn’t hear the words. He holds Arc tightly, almost enough to hurt. He can’t let go, he can’t let Arc get hurt. Suddenly he’s fifteen again and he tries running away from home and his father is on his heels and he’s going to get dragged back home and it’s going to hurt—

He ducks into an alley, back crawling with the feeling of being too visible, too out in the open. There’s wet streaks burned into his cheeks and the feeling of them sliding down his throat as he attempts to keep down any sounds sans his labored breathing.

He hides in another crevice in the alley, almost falling to the ground and curling up with Arc held protectively still. “Won’t let him get you,” he babbles, barely cohesive or audible.

“Es, lemme go!” Arc demands, fighting with Esper’s arms wound around him, but to no avail. Esper holds him with all the strength he’d gained working with Lusa over the months. “Es! Why’d we run away!”

Esper still doesn’t reply to him, and Arc is getting close to tears himself. He doesn’t know what’s going on, he doesn’t want Esper to cry like this. He was going to show his dad all the cool stuff he’d gotten, help Esper with dinner like they’d agreed…

Esper’s phone rings from inside his pocket, but he doesn’t move to grab it, doesn’t move at all save for a jolt at the sudden sound.

“Esper, your phone! I bet that’s dad!”

Still nothing. It’s almost like Esper isn’t even there, but he most definitely is, because he’s not letting go of Arc in the slightest. Arc wiggles, reaching down and pulling Esper’s phone out himself.

Just like he’d said, it’s dad calling, his grinning selfie taking up the screen. Arc fumbles with one hand and the big screen, but he manages to pick up, smushing the phone against his ear.

“Dad! What’s going on?!”

“Arc— Where’s Esper? Where are you?” Lusa asks. Arc remembers he sounded similar when he’d first met Esper. He doesn’t like it.

“He's… he’s here, he’s holding me,” he says, sniffling. He can feel the tears burning in his eyes, and his head hurts when they spill. “He won’t talk to me! He won’t talk at all! I'm— I’m scared, dad! I think he’s scared too? Dad, help!”

“It’s okay baby boy, I’m coming to get you,” Lusa tells him, trying his best to sound reassuring. “Tell me where you are, do you know? I’ll be there before you can say wait.”

*I'm… not sure… We’re by the cake shop, the pretty one. Esper hid in one of the alleys, but I— I don’t know which one. I’m sorry, dad… I’m scared…”

“I’ll be there in a minute, I promise, Arc. Don’t hang up, okay? I’m coming.”

Arc sniffles into the receiver, trembling in Esper’s hold as much as Esper himself trembles. “O-okay, dad… Please hurry?”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shoutout to maru for flinging themself out of a window

“I’m sorry, but it seems you should come back to meet Esper some other time,” Lusa says, holding a hand over the phone so Arc wouldn’t hear him. His adrenaline is spiked so high he feels his arteries will pop one by one.

Asker stands up from the armchair, having not budged at all until now. “Unfortunately, that is not possible. After all, I won’t be returning here, and neither will Esper. That insufferable child needs to be put back in his place.”

Lusa frowns, staring the man down with a mixture of shock and nausea brimming in his stomach. “You should go,” he says, unnaturally level, “Now.”

“Very well, looks like my unchecked tongue resulted in me overstaying my welcome. It’s not like Esper is here anymore, anyway. Now where could that brat have hidden? Surely yours has an idea?”

The phone screen crackles under the force of Lusa’s grip. It’s only one, two steps before he’s close enough to the man to wind his arm back. There’s a sickening crunch as his fist makes contact with the man’s jaw and sends him backwards with sheer power.

“I will not repeat myself,” Lusa mutters, all too ready to send another punch. “Leave.” His breathing is shallow; he sees red when he stares at the primly dressed man, now bleeding from his probably broken nose.This man is the reason why Esper ran away, why Arc is crying into the phone. Esper had call him his father, so that means…

His heart beats frantically, and the more pieces his brain puts together, the less he can think about, save for ‘this man deserves to die’.

“I won’t let you lay a hand on Es ever again,” he hisses. The reason for Esper’s fear is right there before him; Lusa isn’t about to pass up an opportunity to break more than just his nose, especially since best case scenario, it’s never presented to him again.

“Now, now, let’s not get hasty here—”

Too little, too late. Lusa is throwing another punch already, enjoying the pained noise that leaves Asker a little too much. It’s all too easy to yank that crisp collar up and drag the man out of the house.

Arc’s sniffles are still audible through the phone. Lusa needs to get to them yesterday.

He throws Asker to the ground without a shred of mercy. The blood splatter on the cobblestone path is like a trophy. Lusa shouldn’t feel accomplished seeing it there, but to hell with it now, he does.

“If you ever show your face here again… You’ll end up with more than a few punches. Trust me when I say I have no qualms about taking a pathetic life like yours.”

Asker coughs, picking himself up with obvious difficulty. Duly noted, he groans “Don’t know what you see in that stupid child anyhow. He’s about as useless as a broken TV.”

Lusa is kicking out before he can stop himself. Right in the stomach, heel driving into the soft meat there. “Not another word, you asshole!”

Asker is writhing on the ground like the worm he is and Lusa would love to keep watching him, add a few more kicks to the tally, but he’d already wasted more time than he should have.

“I’m coming, Arc, hang in there, okay?” he tells Arc, “I’ll fix everything.”

Maybe he shouldn't’ drive in a state like this, but he doesn’t care much, already peeling off and heading into the town. He’s lucky no police cars patrol that day, because he breaks no less than five traffic rules within the four minutes it takes to get to the correct shop. He even leaves the engine running while scavenging the alleys.

Arc provides half-helpful, half-choked tips that lead Lusa into the correct place.

“Dad!” Arc cries as soon as Lusa rounds the corner, out of breath.

“Oh, thank god,” Lusa sighs, dropping to his knees in front of his family, ignoring the sting of concrete. His heart aches at the sight; Esper is curled up in a corner of the dirty spot, staring down and holding Arc close to his chest like his life depended on it.

Lusa reaches out slowly, so as not to startle Esper, but he doesn’t seem to even notice him.

“Es, c’mon, it’s me,” he cooes, but still nothing. “Gimme Arc, we can’t stay here. Let’s go home.”

He tries to pull Esper’s arms away from Arc and pull them up, and that's when Esper finally reacts, snapping back to himself, though Lusa isn’t sure he’s happy about it now.

Esper jumps up, hugging Arc so he doesn’t fall. “No!” he cries, voice breaking painfully, “I won’t let you hurt Arc!”

“Es, that’s dad!” Arc tells him, but Esper is acting more like a startled rabbit than anything. He even backs up until his back hits the wall, effective trapping himself further in the corner.

“Esper…” Lusa grits his teeth, fighting back tears that threaten to fall from his overflowing eyes. “It’s me, c’mon… I won’t hurt you, I’d never…  I’d never hurt you or Arc… Please, let’s go home now…”

“Home…” Esper echoes, shoulders slumping from their tense position. His eyes gain a panicked glint, brows arching up and scrunching together. “It’s not cleaned… Father will come home, he’ll see… Hurts… Stop it, Im— I’m sorry… Please, I’ll clean it—”

Against better judgement, Lusa listens to his instinct and wraps his arms around both Esper and Arc, holding the shaking man while he bawls, muttering apologies and incoherent descriptions that only further break Lusa’s heart, or what’s left of it right now.

Oh, how he regrets not breaking more than Askers nose!

“Esper, it’s fine… He’s not here anymore. He can’t hurt you, I won’t let him. C’mon now, let’s go back to  _our_  home, not his. No cleaning, we’ll order take out and watch a ninja movie, how’s about it?”

Esper sniffles. “Lusa,” he mutters, stopping his rambles as if he just notices who he is with, who is holding him.

“Yeah, it’s me. Let’s get out of here, put Arc down, I’ll hold you.”

Reluctantly, Esper puts Arc down, and the kid runs up to Lusa to hug him, hiding his face in Lusa’s thigh. “Dad, what’s going on?” he asks, clinging to his pant leg. Lusa leans down and scoops him up, perching the kid on his hip as he wraps an arm around Esper’s shoulders.

“That man who was at our house was very, very bad. He hurt Es before,” he tries explaining, watching as Esper stares at him with a pained expression. “Don’t be mad at Esper, Arc, okay? He wanted to keep you safe from that man.”

“Uh-uh… Is the bad man gone now”?

“Yeah, your dad beat him in a fight. He was gonna hurt us all, but I kicked him out!” He looks straight at Esper as he says that, trying to smile reassuringly.

“Is he really gone?” Esper asks, quiet, raspy. All the crying had taken a toll on his voice. “What if he comes back? He knows where you live—”

“Where we live, Es,” Lusa corrects him. He rubs Esper’s upper arm through his shirt. “I won’t let him hurt you again. That’s a promise. A swear.”

Esper nods numbly, leaning into the touch with only slight reluctance. Lusa leads him back to the car and seats Arcin his seat. Esper clambers into the passenger seat in silence. In fact, the whole ride back is silent, not even Arc piping up with the usual banter. The radio is still off from when Lusa turned it down to hear Arc more properly when searching for them.

It’s Asker’s grace that the Sedan is no longer sitting in their driveway when they get home. It’s nowhere to be seen, actually.

Lusa parks and gets up, but when Esper doesn’t move, he circles the car and opens the passenger door for him. “C’mon, Es,” he prompts.

Esper looks up at him, as if snapping out of deep thoughts. He nods, very stiffly, and slowly gets out. His eyes flick back and forth, obviously ready to bolt again. With how he’s acting, Lusa is surprised (though not unpleasantly) he even agreed to that the car ride.

Arc runs inside as soon as Lusa opens the door, rushing down the hall and picking up a plushie from the ground. It’s a dark cat , one that Lusa doesn’t recognize. “Hey, who’s that?” he asks, making sure Esper actually comes inside before he heads to the kitchen with Arc.

“Um, this is Miss Meow,” Arc says, dusting said Miss until she’s clean enough for his standards. “Esper got me her um… earlier.”

“Oh, did he?” Lusa motions for Esper to join them at the dining table. “You should show me all you got at the store!”

Arc wastes no time to launch into a tirade about his new backpack — which he’d been wearing this whole time and would probably need a quick wash, not just dusting — and the super cool blow pens that everyone is gonna be jealous of’. Lusa had thought it’d help take his mind off of what happened, so he didn’t even comment that he said ‘no’ to those same pens a few days prior.

Esper, though… still looks out of it, glancing out of the window every few minutes to check the driveway. Okay, Lusa is being generous, Esper is actually snapping his head around all the time, to the point where Lusa is worried he’ll tear something in his neck or something.

He wants to talk to him about what ha happened, apologize for not knowing — not recognizing the man. He wants to fic today, restart it and prevent it from ever happened. But he doesn’t possess time powers and Esper still looks lost in his own kitchen.

Plus Lusa wants to give him his all when they actually tackle this issue. For now he gives his  all to his son,holding back every single comment about Esper soiling Arc too much r buying him too many things. He’s glad Arc can still be positive, at least.

Wishes Esper would too, but he knows it’s too soon.

 

* * *

 

They order takeout as per Lusa’s suggestion —  _they_ being  _Lusa_ , if we’re being honest — but when the delivery boy comes, Lusa can see the fatal flaw in his idea.

The doorbell ringing makes Esper almost jump out of his skin. He hides in the kitchen, pressing himself against the wall by the door, hidden from sight. Lusa’s heart aches at the sight and he rushes to answer the door.

The poor guy is so confused when Lusa just hands him thirty bucks and yells to keep the change.

“It’s okay, Es, just the food,” he says, setting the warm containers onto the counter. Esper is still pressed into the wall, dangerously close to tears.

Lusa walks up to him and pauses. “Esper?”

“Yeah?” Esper’s voice wavers and Lusa feels helpless.

“Can I touch you?”

Esper nods, choppy and slow, so Lusa takes a hold of his hand and pulls him to the living room to sit on the couch. He sits close to him, but still far enough so it doesn’t feel claustrophobic.

“Es, I want to talk about what happened before,” he says, and doesn’t hesitate to continue even when Esper curls u. “I want to apologize. If I’d known that’s your father, I— wouldn’t’ve let him in. Hell, I’d punch him sooner.”

“You punched him? Esper asks, wide eyes staring at Lusa like he’d just grown a second head.

Lusa’s chest fills with pride and he grins at Esper, mimicking punching the air with one hand. “Fuck yeah I did! Twice, and then kicked him some. Prolly broke his nose, too. I would’ve done more, but I wanted to get to you and Arc as soon as I could.”

Esper frowns, hiding a grimace behind a hand. “What did… he do?”

“Oh, he laid there and took it like the scum he is! I told him I’d have no problem getting bloody if he ever showed up again.”

“He’ll… he’ll be back… Even angrier, probably, he’ll… he’ll hurt you and Arc and— and he’ll… drag me back— home—” Esper babbles, tugging at the longer strands of his hair. His eyes stare at nothing and he almost rips the hair out, but Lusa wraps his fingers around his hands, gently pulling them away.

“Hey, I was serious when I told him I’d have no problem getting rid of him I won’t let you get hurt anymore, I swear. You hear? I swear, he’ll never get to you again.”

Esper hiccups a sob and leans onto Lusa (read: falls onto his shoulder like a sack of potatoes), shoulders quaking. Lusa wraps an arm around him, enveloping him in a n embrace, holding him as close as humanly possible, warm and safe.

“He knows where I live,” Esper says, and though it’s muffled in the crook of his neck, Lusa has no trouble making it out. “Where  _you_ live.”

“And if he shows up again I have the police on speed dial,” Lusa coos back, stroking a hand through Espers hair, massaging the tender scalp.

“How long do you think he’s known…? He must’ve been stalking us! What if he hurts you or— or Arc!”

“I can take care of myself. And Arc is always around us or someone we know.”

Esper doesn’t have a retort to that one, but he can’t stop crying either. Lusa holds him as he wails, staining his shirt with tears. It's not like Lusa minds; it can just get thrown into the laundry later. Esper is more important than a piece of fabric. 

“I’m sorry,” Esper says, still half-muffled.

“Why’re you apologizing?” Lusa asks, also still playing with Esper’s hair in hopes of calming him.

“He could’ve hurt you,” the lankier man answers quietly. “He only wanted me…”

Lusa shushes him immediately. “But he didn’t. And he won’t get you.” He stops carding through Esper’s hair in favor of brushing the tear streaks etched into his cheeks off. “You feel up for some dinner? You’ll feel better with a full belly.”

“Dad? Es? Is everything okay?” Asks, peeking into the living room, small fingers gripping onto the doorframe, only his head visible behind the corner.

Esper pulls away, wiping at his face. He motions Arc over and helps him sit in his lap, trying his best to make a normal smile.

“Sometimes, when something bad happens,” he says, sniffling, “you can’t do anything. Crying helps you feel better, so I had to cry it out. Hugs also help,  and your dad was here to provide. Everything’s fine now, Arc. I’m sorry for scaring you.”

Arc nuzzles into Esper’s chest, squeezing him with all the power of his small five-year-old frame (which is not much). “I’ll hug you too, until you’re all better. Please don’t run away again.”

Esper chuckles, the sound hollow to his own ears. He chuckles, “Of course I won’t,” but his mind is running hundred miles an hour, as if to make up for the time he’d been out of it.

Maybe it’s a bad idea to stay here. Asker could come back at any time… Lusa doesn’t know what he’s capable of, how many shady connections he has. How he always gets what he wants, no matter what. It’s not fair to put Lusa and Arc in danger needlessly.

Esper grins, setting Arc down. “Now, how about that dinner? I don’t know about you, but I’m starving and the food is just sitting there getting cold.”

There’s already a plan in his mind as he plates the Chinese from its boxes. ‘ _Sorry, Arc,_ ’ he thinks somberly, ‘ _but it looks like I’ll have to let you down this once_.’


	11. Chapter 11

It’s with a heavy heart that Esper shoves a shirt into his backpack and then, after a second’s deliberation, grabs another one, Lusa’s, from where it’s thrown over the laundry basket. He’d never thought he would feel like this one day, throwing essentials into a bag to leave, heart in the pit of his stomach. He’d never thought he’d get attached to a place.

The last time he’d done this, much less peacefully, he’d been full of adrenaline, panic coursing through his very veins. He remembers looking over his shoulder the whole time, watching carefully if his father stirs from his unconsciousness. He doesn’t to that now; doesn’t have to, since he’d hear either Lusa or Arc coming long before they’d see him pushing all the overflowing things further into the bag to zip it up.

He can’t help but wonder if he’ll be missed. Arc had grown attached to him, and Lusa was nice to him, but ultimately, they’d go back to how they were before he’d turned up. Lusa will probably be happier, having his workshop all to himself again, not having to care for Esper’s untimely outbursts.

He resolves to stop thinking about it lest he start crying and wakes someone up with the sound.

He throws the bag over his shoulder and then picks up the note he’d spent an agonizingly long time writing up. He places it onto the dining table for Lusa to find easily in the morning. He would feel bad for leaving without even saying a goodbye, but he can’t exactly do that without Lusa attempting to stop him. He could also go for a hug that he knows Lusa would provide more than happily, but he also can’t have that, even if he feels so, so cold. Suddenly it doesn’t feel like the summer anymore.

Esper shakes his head to clear it and then slips on his shoes. He can’t handle turning around eve once more to look at the house he’d come to call home, a real home as it’s defined in the dictionaries, as opposed to the prison he’d spent his life at before.

He steps onto the dark street with quaking shoulders.

* * *

 

“Heey! Give back my dinosaur!”

“Shea!”

“But da-ad! It’s my turn!”

“That’s my dinosaur!”

“Shea, you lost your dinosaur last week. Give it back to your brother.”

“But da——d!”

“No buts! Give it back and go brush your teeth, both of your. It’s way past your bedtime.”

“...okay…”

Arme sighs, adding ‘get Shea a new toy dinosaur’ to his mental to-do list. He turns to Knight, who is still sitting on the sofa, fiddling with his phone and the strap on it. Arme’s expression melts as he sits by him, enveloping him with an arm.

“You tired?” he asks, bumping into Knight’s head with his.

Knight chuckles and returns the gesture. “A little. I still can’t believe what happened to Lusa today.”

Arme’s answer is a nod. He takes the phone from his husband’s hands and puts it onto the coffee table. The entire conversation is ingrained in his brain just as much as it is in Knight’s.

Knight had called Lusa to ask about going bowling next weekend, but it’d been obvious Lusa was not alright just from his tone of voice. Knight had put him on speaker then, and Arme had found his way into the living room, drawn by their discussion.

Lusa told them what had happened, and then promptly cried soft sobs into the phone. He didn’t want to wake up anyone, but Knight and Arme were lending an ear, he just couldn’t help it.

Knight had assured Lusa he’d personally be of help hiding the body if Asker were to ever show up again. Arme wasn't sure how to feel — because on one hand he completely agreed, but he also kew Knight was completely serious, so on the other hand he wished it wouldn’t come to that.

Finally, they managed to coerce Lusa to get some sleep, but ‘out of sight, out of mind’ never really worked its supposed magic with them.

“We’re a family,” Arme tells Knight, slow and deliberate. “We protect our own. God help those who would try harming Esper.”

Knight grins tiredly and then leans up to place a kiss to Arme’s temple. His lips linger there for a moment, and when they leave, Knight’s entire head rests on Armes shoulder instead. “You always know what to say.”

“Don’t make fun of me—”

“I’m not! I’m not,” Knight defends himself, “I mean it. That was very ice.”

Arme huffs. “You didn’t marry me because of my linguistic abilities or lack thereof.”

“You’re right, I married you for that  _sweet cheque_  you bring home every month.”

“Elsword Knight Sieghart-Ishmael, I swear—”

“Dad! Papa! We want a story!” Anpa cries from the upper floor, much to Knight’s elation. He uses the distraction to slip out of Arme’s hold and heads upstairs.

Arme watches with a fond look. He also adds ‘buy Knight something nice from that  _sweet cheque_  he brings home every month’ to his to-do list. It’s really getting too long at this point.

It’s not much later that he follow upstairs, stationing himself at the door of their boys’ room like a guard, listening in on every soft word Knight reads from the boys’ favorite storybook. The story of the fearless knight and the crystal of life. Arme knows it by heart, could probably wi a recital , that’s how many times he’d read it already. And Knight alike, probably even a few more times than him.

Still, there is no such thing calming like his husband’s voice piercing the nightly silence, and Arme closes his eyes to enjoy it to the fullest. It’s not like he can’t picture Knight’s smiles and fond looks aimed at their sons with perfection anyway.

He’s almost lulled to sleep himself by the time Knight finishes the story and places kisses on their boys’ heads, doing his best not to wake either of them. He’s smiling sleepily as he leaves the room, the click of the door handle hiding the smack their lips make as they come together.

“Let’s sleep, too,” he whispers, and Arme is nodding along with practiced ease, though he swoops down to get one more kiss beforehand.

Knight is tugging his shirt off before they’re even in the bedroom, sending it flying towards the direction of the bathroom. Arme would laugh if he didn’t feel similarly tired. He starts working his clothes off when Knight pipes up from the dresser, holding their pajamas in his hands with unnatural stiffness.

He’s staring out of the window as if transfixed.

“Is that—” He leans over the dresser, knocking over a — fortunately unlit — candle holder. “Is that Esper?!”

Arme frowns, running over so he can look out the window himself Sure enough, the figure passing their house has Esper’s hair, and is tall enough to pass for him. Arme’s breathing stutters as soon as he notices the bulging backpack on the figure’s back.

It might just be a coincidence, but then again…

There’s no one in the town who resembles Esper, especially not like that. Arme is rushing to get his phone from its charging station on the bedside table.

“We have to call Lusa,” he says, already doing just that. Knight peeks peering out the window, watches the figure go further and further down the street.

“What’s that way—?” Knight asks, but it hits him almost the second the words leave his lips. “The bus stop! Arme, he’s planning to leave!”

Knight’s panicked words only serve to make the dialing tones more terse. “Pick up, pick up, God, make him pick up alread—”

“Hm? Arme?” Lusa slurs from the other side of the line, obviously having been just awoken.

“Lusa, is Esper home?” Arme asks in a rush.

Lusa sounds confused, and Arme can almost see the little crease between his brows. “Wha? He went to bed before me…? Why’re you askin’?”

“Lusa, I need you to go check Esper’s room right the fuck now. Knight, I’m gonna start the car,” Arme instructs, pulling his shirt back on haphazardly.

There’s a distant, “ _Wow_! Language!”

“Did something happen?” Lusa asks, starting to wake up more. Arme isn’t sure whose heavy footsteps he hears; Lusa’s or his own. The automatic light turns on as he steps onto the porch, already clicking the car lock off.

“Fuck!” Lusa hisses into his ear, “He’s not here! It’s a fucking mess, what happened?” He sounds just as panicked as Arme knows he is.

“Knight saw him going down our street a few ago,” he tries explaining. Hes jabbing the key into the ignition and pushing the phone against his shoulder with the side of his face as he peels off the driveway, making a sharper turn than he ever would during daylight. “He had a bag. Knight thinks he’s going to the bus stop.”

“Fuck! What’s he thinking?”

Arme has no answer for that question, but he knows Lusa does. There’s silence for a few blocks and then Lusa breathes heavily into the receiver and says, “I’ll be there in ten minutes. Please, stop him.”

“That’s the plan,” Arme cuts off, Lusa’s voice fading off with the end of the call.

* * *

 

Lusa’s hands tremble as he holds the paper, wrinkling it with the force of his grip. He wishes he could unread something, but alas, he has no such powers or luck.

> _— Lusa,_
> 
> _I hope you had a good rest. I decided it was too dangerous for me to stay when father knows there this is. I can’t imagine if he’d hurt you or Arc and I can’t risk it. Sorry I left without a word, but I don’t want you to try to stop me. It’s better this way. You’ll be safe if you don’t know where I am. My father is a dangerous man, you’re lucky nothing happened to you yesterday. Please please don’t look for me._
> 
> _Thank you for everything. I hope I can repay you one say, somehow._
> 
> _— Esper_

Lusa feels like what he’d just read isn’t real, but Arme had made it all too real, and painfully so. He’s grabbing his keys before he can think about it a second longer, running out in nothing but his pajamas and bedheaded hair.

The letter gets shoved into his pocket haphazardly and Lusa wants to forget it exists, but it’s burning a hole through his jeans and soul alike. Nothing save it feels real at the moment; the dark and quiet transforms the town into something unfamiliar, strange.

The drive feels at once endless and over too soon. Lusa’s sneakers drag over the concrete as he half-jogs to the bus stop, breathing out an immediate sigh of relief when he spots a hunched-over figure.

Esper sits on the bench, the lone street lamp that reaches the secluded spot casting long shadows over his figure. Sure enough, there’s a bag on his shoulders. He was really planning on leaving.

Lusa can’t breathe.

“Esper!” he cries, breaking out into a full run and almost tripping himself over a curb.

Esper jerks, turning a wide-eyed face towards him, recoiling almost immediately. Lusa comes to a halt when he reaches him, panting and with equally wide-eyed stare. Esper is holding up his arms in front of his chest as if waiting to be struck down, to defend himself. The implications churn Lusa’s stomach in the very opposite of a good way.

How does he show Esper that he wouldn’t hurt him, never ever again? Each day, each tiny jolt and jerk and careful, fearful glance he beats himself up for contributing to it, wishing there was a way to re-do history and change not only his meeting with Esper, but everything else as well.

He only just notices Arme sitting next to Esper when he leans to look at him closer, frowning like Lusa had done something awful. And, fuck, Lusa doesn’t need him to remind him too; he’s very capable of kicking his brain himself, thank you very much.

He all but collapses at Esper’s feet, reaching out to grab his hands in his, enveloping them and warming the cold skin. He can’t hold back the tears that he didn’t even know he still had after all the ones he’d spent today.

Esper stares down at him, mirroring him with a look of agony that Lusa wishes will never cross his face ever again.

“Please, please,  _please_ don’t leave,” Lusa chokes out, back bending down in tandem with the quiet wail that leaves his chapped, bitten-up lips. His forehead comes to rest against Esper’s knees, yet he keeps talking. Esper and Arme hear him clear as day, no matter the mumbles or sobs. “Please, I promise nothing will happen to you anymore, so please, rethink it— I don’t want to lose you, Esper, please…”

Esper weeps — one would think he’d also have no tears left to cry anymore, after a day full of them, but no, his tearducts are as functional as ever and provide the saltiness diligently — and he leans over Lusa, squeezing his hand with his trembling ones. Lusa squeezes back and that simple human contact warms Esper like nothing else could.

“I—” he gasps, sniffling like a whining puppy that had been kicked. His face is a mess of various fluids and he’s thankful for the bad light so the others don’t have to see him like that. “I don’t  _want_ to leave…!”

“You don’t have to, you don’t, so please,” Lusa begs, gripping onto Esper like his entire life depends on it.

Maybe it does.

Arme rubs Esper’s back in silence. He knows there’s not much more he can do than he’d already done, or say more than he already had. He’s glad Lusa didn’t have to see Esper when he’d first realized he’d been caught in the act, fighting and begging. Really a sight Arme himself wishes to erase from his memory. He’s not sure how Lusa would have reacted.

Esper shakes between the two of them, trying to stifle his sobs and hiccups. His success is debatable, but it’s not like either of them is going to start the debate.

“I’m sorry,” he says, not without his voice breaking in the middle though, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”

“It’s okay,” Lusa echoes back back to each of Esper’s apologies, pulling the man closer, enveloping him in a tight embrace. He doesn’t want to ever let go, ever let Esper slip from his fingers like he’d tried.

They’re pulled out of their thoughts, out of their tears, by the bus coming up to a stop by their little bench, tires screeching too-loud in the night.

Lusa stares at the vehicle and then looks back at Esper, holding him in place with a terrified look. With wide and bloodshot eyes and tear streaks running down his cheeks like rivulets of pain, Esper isn’t sure he’d ever seen Lusa look this scared before. Lusa was strong, he was the one who didn’t cry — today is the first time Esper had ever seen him shed a tear, and what a way to find out.

“Please,” Lusa chokes out, no more than a cut-off whisper that gets stuck halfway up his throat, “I won’t— I can’t make you stay if you don’t want to, but please— please don’t go.”

Esper sobs again, lips wobbling as he grits his teeth and fights not to screw his eyes shut. He almost knocks Lusa backwards with the force he throws himself at him again, clinging like a drowning man to a piece of driftwood. Lusa feels like an anchor, holding him down so he feels real again when everything feels like a bad, bad dream.

“I don’t want to leave,” he confesses again, straight into the fabric of Lusa’s already wrinkled shirt.

“Then don’t! I promise everything will be alright.”

Esper lets himself get lulled by the soft words until the bus drives closes the doors to the vehicle again and speeds off, disappearing into the distance as its tail lights fade out of view.

“Would you like to go home?” Lusa asks, peeking at Arme over the tremble of Esper’s shoulder. They share a look full of nothing but relief, though Arme knows Lusa feels much more of it than him.

Esper nods, choppy, timid. It would’ve gotten unnoticed if he didn’t have his face pressed into the crook of Lusa’s neck and Lusa couldn’t feel even miniscule movements.

“Then let’s go, let’s get some rest.”

* * *

 

“Thank you, Arme,” Lusa says, standing in the doorway. He looks so tired now, with bags under his eyes and unable to even form a real smile.

Arme shakes his head, arms folded not defensively, but pensively. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll Knight everything is fine, he must be worried sick by now.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

“Again, not your fault. Not Esper’s, either. Please go get some rest.”

Lusa nods, staring off into nothing again. “Yeah,” he says finally, when the sound of boiling water and the kettle squeaking reaches his ears. “Be careful on the way home.”

“I will. Good night, Lusa,” Arme tells him. He hesitates for a moment, though, then reaches up and softly claps Lusa’s shoulder. Then he’s heading back to his car.

The clock on the hallway wall reads 3:19 when Lusa closes the door and leans back on it to catch his breath, way past his or Arme’s bedtime on a weekday. They’re all going to be messes tomorrow.

But there’s someone who’s a mess right now who needs attention. Lusa paddles his way to the kitchen to find Esper pouring tea. He’s handed a steaming mug and Esper gives a wide smile to go along with it.

“Here. I thought it might help you sleep. It’s chamomile.”

Lusa puts the mug down onto the table. “Esper,” he says sternly, but not unkindly, “You don’t need to act like nothing happened.”

Esper’s falls off like a leaf in the autumn breeze. He holds his own mug close, fingers wrapped around the colorful ceramic. It’s Lusa’s, the one he keeps, the one that has the terrible cat pun on it.

“I’m sorry,” he says, quiet and gazing down.

“Come on, I wasn’t looking for an apology. I’m not angry at you, okay?”

“Uh-uh,” Esper nods, staring into the moving surface of his tea like it holds the secrets to the universe. He plays with the teabag absently, yanking at the damp string.

“I wanna… talk to you about it again, but not now,” Lusa says. His voice is soft, as gentle as he can make it. “For now, I bet we’re both tired.”

“Yeah.”

“Esper…” Lusa hesitates. Gathering all his courage to ask this, he goes ahead with it, but not until a few tense moments pass. “Would you consider sleeping with me tonight? In my room, I mean— I know, it sounds weird, but I’d just like to make sure you’re here, y’know?”

“Okay,” Esper nods, but Lusa frowns.

“You don’t have to say yes. If you don’t want to, nothing will happen. I won’t get angry.”

“No. No, it’s okay. More than okay— I’d… like to not be alone, actually,” Esper explains, a quiet confession like a giant secret no one was supposed to find out.

Lusa opens his arms and waits for Esper to put his tea away before he hugs him again. The lankier man reciprocates, squeezing Lusa with all his strength.

“Today was… long,” Lusa says as he pulls away, “I promise you everything will be alright. So let’s sleep on it, okay?”

Esper hums, nodding with a small, crooked smile. He can’t wait to sleep, really; is sure he’d pass out as soon as his head hit the pillow. Now that the adrenaline is gone from his system, his limbs feel like lead and head pounds with a headache from all the crying.

They take their teas and sip them slowly, savoring the sweetened taste. Esper makes the best tea, Lusa had decided. And the best food. And the best desserts.

He has the nicest laugh. He’s so funny. He gets scared by horror movies too easily. He gets that wrinkle between his brows when he concentrates too much. He’s skilled with anything he picks up almost immediately.

He’s family. Lusa can’t imagine life without him anymore, just like he can’t imagine life without Arc.

Esper drags himself more than walks up the stairs and Lusa can see just how badly this has affected him. Not that he couldn’t before, but with the storm — hopefully — behind them, it’s time to see what hasn’t gotten flooded. Esper hesitates in the doorway of Lusa’s room until Lusa motions him inside.

_It’s okay,_  he repeats. To himself, to Esper. To the both of them.

They collapse onto the bed, teas forgotten on the bedside table. It should be weird, sharing such a small bed with two of them, but it isn’t. Lusa’s arms come to wind around Esper, to keep him close, almost unconsciously, and Esper kicks away the blanket so they’re not overheating. They’re still wearing their clothes — or, at least Esper is, Lusa had just thrown a shirt on to go along with his sleeping sweatpants. That should also be weird. Possibly uncomfortable. But Esper doesn’t even peep.

Just as he’d predicted, the sweet embrace of sleep takes him into its hold just as easily as  Lusa does, and he snuggles up to both.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, slamming back a can of golden cock(tm); take this comfort you loseRS i cried writing it

Sunlight streams into the room through the window, rays falling at the perfect angle to be visible, if there was someone to look at it. Birds chirp their usual morning songs, carrying them along from tree to tree.

Esper stirs, yawning as he resurfaces from his slumber. His eyes crack open the barest amount and he watches the patches of light dancing along the wall after shining through the tree crowns outside. His eyes fall closed soon after, though, as he snuggles closer to his blanket. It’s so warm…

He isn’t sure how long he’d been asleep, but it was probably too little or too much, because he feels groggy and still sleepy. That’s why it takes so long for him to place himself; to realize he is absolute not snuggling up to the usual purple comforter, but to Lusa instead. His immediate confusion is replaced by understanding upon but a minute of thinking. The events of yesterday come back to him all at once, like a tidal wave that makes him want to curl up and disappear.

Seeing his father again had been… And to think he’d come to try and take him back! The taste of bile tickles at the back of his throat when he imagines  all that could’ve happened. What if Lusa hadn’t been at home; what if it had just been him? Would his father have pulled out his favorite gun? What if Arc had been alone instead? Knowing how much father hates children, Esper doesn’t even want to entertain that particular scenario.

And what now — now that father knows where he is? Are they ever going to be safe again? It is all too easy to hire people to do as father would like, such as maid chefs, chauffeurs, or kidnappers…

Why would he want Esper back, though? He’d always lamented his uselessness and never let up an opportunity to remind him of it. Everything was always his fault, from an undusted shelf to father’s decline of stocks. No matter how hard he’d try or how much he’d do, it had never been enough.

So shouldn’t he be happy to have Esper out of his hair? He should be enjoying it, so why was he here, months and months later?

Esper doesn’t know. He just doesn’t know.

Almost unconsciously, he nuzzles himself into the crook of Lusa’s neck. Lusa’s still sound asleep, breathing even and almost inaudible. In the silence only broken by the birds outside, Esper’s mind wanders again.

Even with everything bad going on, he feels comfortable at the moment. Lusa is warm and letting him cuddle this close. Maybe (and probably) he’ll change his mind and kick Esper out as soon as he wakes up and finds that he’s still here. That had been why he’d probably offered this arrangement in the first place, to make sure Esper wouldn’t make another attempt at an escapade.

And maybe that's why Esper wants to take advantage of the moment, a little selfishly. Lusa has an arm slung over his stomach, as if he’d held Esper close during the night. Esper takes a moment to imagine what it would be like to feel this every morning, to wake up in someone’s (Lusa’s) arms, held close and safe.

He regrets it almost immediately. He can’t have that, he’ll never have that. This was a one night thing and — oh god, that sounded weird even in his own head! He’ll be lucky if Lusa isn't angry at him. He had made both him and Arme and Knight worry last night, after all.

They might all come to hate him. Lusa had begged him to come back, but even so, he will surely realize letting Esper stay here isn’t wise. Thought that frightens him, he can’t say he would be surprised in the slightest. He’d even be a little grab, maybe. Just maybe.

The last thing he wants is for Lusa or, god forbid, Arc to get hurt like he had been. They don’t deserve that.

Lusa stirs in his sleep, pulling Esper out of his mental spiral like a cold shower. He tenses up, preparing himself for Lusa’s anger, but the other man just squeezes him like a giant plushie and burrows his head further into the pillow. A breath that he didn’t even know he’d been holding escapes Esper.

He watches Lusa’s face, so peaceful when he’s asleep. He’s drawn to the almost invisible smattering of freckles across Lusa’s cheeks and nose, so light and subtle he hadn’t noticed them until this very moment. Then again, he’d never been this close to Lusa’s face before. He feels a sudden urge to touch them, but he refrains, fearful of waking him up. He’s already pushing his luck the longer he stays so close.

Esper gets a little lost in Lusa’s soft breathing that he almost misses the other  _actually_ waking.

Lusa’s eyes flutter open and gaze at him, captivating him with a single look. They’re so pink, catching every single ray of sunlight and reflecting it back ten folds. Esper doesn’t even breathe.

Lusa’s lips stretch into a lazy smile, a soft expression that is so usual for him but so different coupled with the wild bedhead he’s sporting right now. His voice is equally soft, and equally unusual. Esper’s used to Lusa sounding a little gruff in the morning, but it has nothing on what he sounds like now.

“G’morning, Es.”

Esper can do nothing but stare in silence and Lusa laughs, squeezing him again, but this time obviously on purpose. It makes Espers cheeks and chest alike bloom with warmth. Honestly, he wouldn’t be opposed to staying like this all day.

Lusa’s eyes soften and he reaches up to brush Esper’s hair out of his face. “Are you feeling better?”

Esper doesn’t have a definitive answer to such a question and he’d feel bad telling the complete truth. He still feels bad, and he probably won’t just stop anytime soon. “I don’t know,” he says finally.

Lusa’s demeanor doesn’t change at all even when he says that. “How about some breakfast? That might help you decide,” he offers, sitting up with a groan and stretching his arms above his head.His joints pop with a satisfying crackle. “Plus it’s time to wake Arc, anyhow.”

Esper nods, but doesn’t move yet, not even as Lusa stands and does a few stretches. He makes it look effortless, but Esper cringes inwardly at the thought of even attempting all of that. Which brings his attention to the fact that he’s still wearing yesterday’s clothes, and they’re very, very sticky now. They need a wash and he needs a shower, stat.

“I’ll wake up Arc. How do you want your eggs? I’ll get ‘em started.”

“Sunny side up, please,” Esper says as he drags himself out of the bed, finally. Lusa disappears downstairs and Esper is left alone, staring at the conjoined bathroom’s door. He can’t find the energy to stand and go to the shower, but he knows he has to. His clothes stink of yesterday’s sweat and misery and his face must be a mess after all the crying he’d done; again.

Eventually he does kick himself into getting up and into the shower. The hot, borderline scalding water feels heavenly on his skin. He’s glad he’s decided to shower as soon as he steps foot into the shower.

He does feel a little better when he gets out, smelling of Lusa’s shampoo and body wash and strategically stealing one of his shirts from the drier pile because he’d forgotten to bring his own spare to change into. And he’s sure as hell not going out into the hall naked, thank you very much. He even looks forward to the promised breakfast; Lusa had been right, maybe some normalcy will calm him.

The house is filled with Arc’s excited chattering when Esper goes down the stairs, a towel slung over his neck and hair all over the place as it dries. Arc is sitting at the table with his new blow pens, vigorously blowing red color onto a picture in front of himself. On a closer look, Esper sees it’s a picture of Knight, and the blow pen had completely ruined half the paper with ink, but Arc looks so proud of himself, red in the face from all the blowing, gasping for breath.

“Es! Morning!” he greets, holding the paper up for Esper to see better. “Look! Look!!”

“Its very pretty, Arc. When it dries, why don’t you find it a place on the fridge museum of art?”

Lusa laughs from where he’s flipping shrips of bacon on a pan, glancing over at the two of them. “You should draw Arme too, so this Knight isn’t lonely,” he suggest — and he doesn’t even have to look to know Arc’s face lit up like a neon sign at midnight, or how facst he dug for another piece of paper to do just that.

Esper sits next to him and watches as Lusa cooks for all of them. He never sends a mean look his way or even looks annoyed at having to do it himself. He een starts humming a song somewhere along the line as he plates the bacon to the already made eggs.

He presents the plates like a waiter at an expensive restaurant, complete with a curtsy and a ‘bon appetite!’ Esper rewards him with a chuckle —it’s more than obvious that Lusa is pleased with it and with himself.

Arc digs into the meal after squirting way too much ketchup onto the edge of the plate and knocking no less than five markers off the table. It feels like a normal morning when his father starts berating him even while picking up the markers instead of his son.

Esper kind of wishes they could all just pretend yesterday didn’t happen.

* * *

They can’t — of course not.

Truthfully, Esper likes the fact that Lusa actually talks to him about things, but right now he isn’t ready to face the fact that he had hurt Lusa, or the fact that Asker could’ve hurt so much more than just any of their feelings. But Lusa is hellbent on having the conversation, and calls Esper over to the living room when Arc runs off to draw more, already looking up pictures on his tablet to copy.

Lusa pats a spot next to himself on the couch. Esper reluctantly takes it.

“Well?” Lusa starts, turning the TV on and flipping through the channels. He lands on the cartoon channel and it provides some much needed background noise. “Do you feel a lil better after eating? It’s okay if not, you know.”

Half of Esper wants to say no because he’s still stressed and scared, but the other half has to admit he does feel better than he did before the whole getting-out-of-bed thing. He lands on a simple, “Yeah.”

Lusa nods, looking at him from the side instead of straight on. Esper isn’t sure if it’s intentional, but it makes him less skittish, knowing he isn’t being watched the whole time.

“So… about yesterday, I wanna—”

“I’m sorry,” Esper jumps in, his fingers feeling like they’d pop right off if he stopped interlocking them. “I’m sorry… about scaring you and— and running off with Arc. I didn’t want him to get hurt and I wasn't thinking. I’m sorry.”

“No, no, c’mon, listen to me for a sec, ‘kay? It’s actually me who wants to apologize,” Lusa wraps an arm over Esper’s shoulders and pulls him a little closer, but it’s such a Lusa-esque move — soft and more nudging than anything, and Esper is sure if he shied away at all, Lusa would just let go and not even comment on it. But Esper falls onto his shoulders without any resistance whatsoever, nestling himself and happy to know he’s still accepted there.

“You didn’t do anything,” Esper tells him, looking down at where he’d started picking at the sleeves of his borrowed shirt. Yet another thing Lusa hasn't commented on. Thank god.

“No, I did. I should’ve suspected something was up as soon as he said he’s here because of you!” Lusa looks down as well, watching Esper’s fingers tugging at the black lem of the sleeve. “If I’d known it was your father sooner— I should have known. I shouldn’t’ve let him in.”

“You couldn’t have known.”

“You’re family, you’re got… similar hair and—”

“You also have similar hair to me! Please don’t blame yourself, Lusa. I’m just glad no one got hurt this time.”

“Except him.”

Lusa still sounds so proud of himself when saying it that Esper is reminded of what actually happened. Or what Lusa had claimed happened.

“You really—” He swallows heavily, fighting with the lump in his throat. He remembers what had happened when he had hurt Asker in defense, those few failed attempts at escaping. He never liked stones all that much afterwards. “You really punched him, huh?”

“Broke his nose, Es. I really don’t think he’ll show his face here again.”

Lusa’s managing to stay calm, even proud, but he doesn’t know Asker. Not like Esper does. The dread in his stomach and pumping through his veins is his and his alone.

“He will,” he says softly, because Lusa doesn’t understand, doesn’t know how possessive Asker is of his things, no matter how bad or  _broken_ they are. He will come back and he will hurt Lusa like he’d hurt Grace when she had crossed him.

The smell of smoke will forever plague Esper’s nightmares.

“I’m scared he’ll hurt you. He’s rich and he doesn’t know how to stop. He never has.”

“I’m not made of glass, Esper. It’s not like I can’t protect you,” is Lusa’s answer, also so very Lusa-esque. It’s so expected that Esper actually snorts.

“He killed someone, you know.” Lusa’s arm tightens around Esper’s shoulder for a split second before it eases up again. “It’s not worth it to cross him.”

Lusa is silent for a while, staring through the awfully-animated cartoon on the TV rather than actually watching it. “You’re worth it,” he mutters finally.

Esper feels like crying again when the words and their meaning hit him at last, but for once he keeps it inside.

* * *

Knight calls him in the evening as he’s making dinner, hellbent on not letting Lusa and Arc eat grossly greasy potato smilies again. He stirs the fry and holds the phone up to his ear.

“Hello, Knight?”

“Esper! I just wanted to check if everything’s okay.”

Knight sounds worried, and from the quick explanation, Esper already knows. Arme hasn't called Lusa all day, otherwise Knight wouldn’t be worried like this.

“I’m sorry for worrying you.”

It feels like all he does is apologize, but what else is new when all he does is screw up? He’d done that all his life, but now he has people that get worried instead of angry and though Lusa is doing his best to explain, he still can’t quite comprehend it, or deal with it.

Apologizing for worrying someone else is immensely different to apologizing just to keep punishment and wrath to a minimum. It feels completely different and makes him feel so exhausted with himself.

“No, it’s okay,” Knight tells him they’re all there to tell him it’s okay until it feels okay again. Until his brain believes them. He hasn’t known that luxury before meeting them. “How are you feeling? What are you doing, anyway— I’m not interrupting, am I?”

Esper shakes his head, catches himself and says, “Not at all, I’m just making dinner. I’m better now. Um… Lusa and Arc have been… way too nice, honestly. If I could ask you, could you thank Arme for me once more?”

Knight’s laugh echoes in Esper’s ears. He takes the pan off the heat and checks the rice, deeming it done as well. The quiet hum of the fire and bubbling juices slowly comes to a halt, leaving him alone in the —very good smelling— kitchen.

“I’ll tell him. It’s good to hear you’re okay. I’d’ve missed you a lot if you left, but the others would have as well. And— you know, if your father ever shows up again, you’re not dealing with him alone.”

Esper wants to interject — really wants to, but Knight seems to have thought this little speech over and he doesn’t even have anything constructive to add, so what is the point?

“Yeah, uh— you still there?”

“Yeah,” Esper mutters, still taken aback by Knight’s unprompted show of affection. God, they all really like him, huh? Like, genuinely, really like him, and not just because of what he does all the time. He doesn’t know why it’s hitting him so hard right now, but he knows he’d just jump off a bridge if Asker were to touch even one hair on anyone’s heads.

“Sorry, just… thinking.” an understatement, he’s most definitely overthinking everything right now.

“No worries! I just kinda realized how embarrassing that sounded, so, well. I just didn’t want you to laugh at me,” Knight says, and then laughs himself.

“I’d never laugh at you,” Esper reassures him, but then his lips curl up and he adds, “Not unless one of your kids dragged you again.”

“Hey! It ain’t my fault they take after Arme!”

Esper laughs then, feeling giddy. He can read his friends and know when teasing will be taken for the joke it is, no repercussions.

“Keep telling yourself that, one day you might even believe it. It’s definitely not because you’re such an easy target, nuh-uh.”

“I’m mailing you a fucking glitter bomb as we speak, you fucker.”

“Don’t forget to include a return address so I can repack it and send it back with a new label.”

Knight groans on the other side of the call and Esper knows he’s won this little back and forth. He calls Lusa and Arc to eat the dinner and lets Knight know exactly what he’d made just to hear him whining over being hungry.

It’s entirely too easy to feel like nothing had ever happened, surprisingly. He’s not sure how long it will last, but he allows himself to hope for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comment so i can cry more bc i lovethis au


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